


Edge of Infinity

by Anonymous



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Forbidden Love, M/M, MAMA MV Elements, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-17 06:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 63,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: In this lifetime and the next, to the ends of the world and until my last breath, you and I are indubitably and irrevocably bound.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A full list of warnings before you proceed: scenes involving blood (graphically described and mentioned), very mild gore, exhibitionism, unintentional/accidental voyeurism, coarse language, dubious morals (nonsexual in nature), slight mind breaking/mental torture (not between Sekai), toxic friendship, allusions to substance abuse (not done by Sekai)
> 
> My gratitude to the mods for their patience and understanding. Thank you for holding this fest!

Demons seldom dreamed.

In the absence of their own, some demons infiltrated human dreams and transformed them into nightmares, feeding off the fear, the terror. Others played out a human’s most depraved fantasies, encouraged the perversions and darkest desires they could never enact on their waking hours; consumed the sexual energy and milked them to the last drop.

Jongin practiced neither, but he also didn’t know of any other demon that dreamed, or slept. While demons required no sleep to function, the novelty of the concept hadn’t faded for him since first trying; treated it more like a pastime than as a means of survival on the long, vacant hours he had at hand before he needed to show up at work. The moment he laid in bed and closed his eyes, the world would be engulfed in darkness before it was blotted out by colorful, vivid images.

Jongin seldom dreamed, but one persisted among the rest, content remaining unchanged. A cloudless sky, endlessly blue. A large meadow with flowers in full bloom, an array of faint, pleasant scents in the air. The race of his pulse beating like a nonstop drum, the yawning chasm of despair expanding in his chest.

Blood dripping fresh and thick down his fingers, the wet sensation of it on his palms dizzying and nauseating all at once.

He’d been awake for hours, but Jongin could still feel the phantom slide of it on his hands. Blood wasn’t a foreign substance to him, but the way he saw and felt it in the dream never failed to sour his mood upon rousing, further aggravated by the sound of rain pelting against the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Jongin slipped out of bed and walked over to the windows, staring out of it with a frown. Seoul was encased in slick sheets of rain, scenery awashed in gray. Dark storm clouds filled the sky, raindrops dappling the surface of the Han River in a hypnotic rhythm.

“You’re awake.”

Jongin sensed the spike of energy but didn’t bother turning around. “I’ve been awake for a while.”

A hum in acknowledgment. Footsteps approaching. The newcomer standing beside him, looking out the window, palm resting against the glass.

“Looks like it’ll rain the entire night again. Seoul weather hasn’t exactly been agreeable since summer started.”

“Tonight is the first night of the Harvest Moon,” Jongin said. “Tempestuous weather won’t stop me from carrying out my duties.”

An amused chuckle; a head leaning on Jongin’s shoulder, a body snuggling closer. “Always taking your role so seriously. I couldn’t be prouder of my little brother.”

Jongin smiled. “I wish I could say the same for you, big brother. You play around too much,” he teased.

His older brother clucked his tongue in mock reproach. “Hush. Any more of your scolding, and you’ll start sounding like the naggy council members.”

This time, Jongin chuckled. “Whatever you say, Baekhyun. Now, leave me to prepare. Nighttime is fast approaching. I’ll see you at the club if you ever feel like playing the role of a responsible owner.”

With a laugh and two light pats on his shoulder, Baekhyun retreated two paces before vanishing in a poof of dark purple smoke. Jongin left for the bathroom long after, luxuriating in a hot shower while mapping out plans and backups for tonight. His once foul mood lifted, and the lingering traces disappeared at the touch of expensive fabrics while deciding what to wear. Jongin saw little need for clothes, but blending in with human society dictated he couldn’t prance about nude. So he played it to his advantage; experimented with outfits, kept in mind which ones attracted the most attention as he walked passed awed humans from one destination to another.

Teleporting was his method of travel, but Jongin was hugely delighted walking in crowds, the sticky stares he garnered. He savored their prurient curiosity, the tendrils of lust he evoked. Humans were so easy to lure, Jongin thought, as he raised a flirtatious eyebrow at a group who followed his every move with their eyes and phones. A well-timed smirk, a sultry gaze, and they were ensnared, subject to his mercy.

Even more so when he took control of the stage, everyone’s eyes on him; a saucy song rolling off the speakers installed around the club, dancing under the spotlight without missing a beat. From the raised platform, Jongin soaked up the club view as he provided entertainment: the glint of hunger from flashes of skin if he was in the mood to tease; the palpable desire on the crowd’s faces as they danced along on the floor; the awakening of racy thoughts from sensuous rolls of his body against the pole if he felt it that night, or another dancer if he wanted to sell a forbidden fantasy.

Baekhyun was right the first time when he said Seoul teemed with sin and wickedness, its bars and clubs a melting pot of unspeakable human transgressions and undetected demon activity once the sun set. The perfect hunting ground for corrupt humans. The sole reason behind Privé’s foundation.

Jongin danced, and the crowd cheered him on; demanded for more. More of his alluring gazes; more of his tempting body concealed behind crop tops and leather pants. He devoured the high concentration of lust the crowd exuded, the exquisite taste energizing him. Among the major sins, lust was his favorite flavor; the clamoring crowd, a feast he would never turn down.

His number ended, to the crowd’s dismay. Jongin wasn’t swayed by their chants for his return. The next dancer stepped on stage—one of the club’s mainstays—and the crowd roared to life once more. Jongin took his time dressing into a fresher set of clothes and returned outside to mingle; hunt. To the ordinary human eye, the mass of bodies swaying to the beat of the tropical house track were bathed in neon strobe lights. To his demon eyes, each individual was surrounded by a different-colored aura; a limited number in variegating shades of black. Corrupt humans. One of them would be Jongin’s tonight.

Once settled at the bar, the bartender automatically served him a drink. Jongin smelled rum in the glass; concealed his distaste. He loathed the taste of human liquor, not that alcohol in the Demon Realm tasted marginally better. The drink was more of a decorative purpose in this waiting game; an excuse for the corrupt human to approach. 

He traced the rim of the glass and pretended he couldn’t hear the customers around and behind him gossiping in hushed whispers about his physique; the dirty things they would be willing to do with him, to him. He pretended he didn’t notice one of the corrupt humans slip into the barstool next to his— a man older by a few human years, tailor-made suit, the latest Rolex model dangling around his wrist. The inkiest of auras. The most corrupt human in Privé tonight.

“Let me buy you another drink when you’re done with that.”

Perfect.

Settling into his role, Jongin turned to him, wore the cocksure smile he noticed garnered the dreamiest of sighs; produced the lewdest ideas. This man was no exception; his pupils dilating from the crumb of attention. In a club packed with an amalgam of scents, Jongin’s demon senses picked out the strong, piquant lust this man harbored for him. He nearly purred at the taste of it on his tongue.

The man must’ve mistook the sound as one of contemplation, for he added, “Don’t worry, I’m not in cahoots with the bartender. I don’t intend to drug you, or do anything against your will.”

Jongin almost cooed at the naiveté. Human-made substances had zero effect on demons.

“How about we skip the drinks and take this someplace else?” Jongin asked, using an inviting tone. “I’m not one for cheap talk or roundabout flirting. Either we do this or not.”

The man seemed surprised, then immensely pleased, at his frankness. “I won’t say no to that.”

Jongin raised both eyebrows in mild amusement when the man ushered him into the back of a customized BMW. He didn’t bother feigning awe when the vehicle took them to the more upscale and private neighborhood in Gangnam. He’d seen it once, he’d seen it all. Human opulence bored him; paled in comparison to the splendor of the palace back home, the luxury he’d grown up with.

The man humble-bragged about his other properties scattered through Gangnam. A hand placed so casually on Jongin’s knee while talking about his recent overseas purchases, sliding higher by the centimeters while trying to fish information from him. Jongin didn’t fend off his advances but dangled enough tidbits of a made-up story he’d used on many others before him to satiate curiosity. The only real piece of information Jongin gave away was his name. Jaehwan would have no use for it after the night ended.

“My brother and I own the club. I dance there, sometimes. Don’t give me that look—we’re not in dire straits or knee-deep in debt. I dance because I like it. I get bored doing paperwork, and I prefer moving about, so dancing helps.”

“I’ve seen you dance. People couldn’t stop talking about you after your number. Won’t I get in trouble with your brother for taking you away while the club’s in full swing?”

“No. The manager takes charge during our absence. My brother knows I do one-night stands. He won’t mind if I’ve suddenly gone missing.”

Jaehwan looked more relieved than seconds ago, and his hand dared venture higher, now, bolder in his approach. Jongin intercepted his hand from where it intended to touch, wagging a finger in Jaehwan’s face.

“I like your eagerness, but we will do this my way.”

Jaehwan nodded with surprising but immediate eagerness.

Jongin smiled sickly sweet; inside, he scoffed. What a fool of a human man.

A fool of a human man who, for all their daring advances, was so easy to push around, Jongin discovered. So obedient it was hilarious watching Jaehwan scramble to accommodate him, comply with his every order without question. Jaehwan’s lust for him was scrumptious. Had it not been a Harvest Moon night, Jongin would’ve indulged on every last drop of sexual energy he could siphon from him.

No sooner had they crossed the threshold of Jaehwan’s luxurious bedroom did he start pawing at Jongin, praising him endlessly for his gorgeous face and sublime body. Jongin allowed the touches, ticklish and clumsy at most—an ill fit to this supposed scenario of seduction. When Jaehwan surged forward for a kiss, Jongin stopped him with a hand to his mouth and a shake of the head.

“I don’t kiss one-night stands.”

“Understandable,” Jaehwan conceded. “We can do much more than kissing. Better things than kissing.”

Jaehwan was taller and bulkier than Jongin for a human. The gradual reveal of chest and back tattoos when the clothes started coming off should’ve been intimidating, too; but Jongin manhandled and tossed Jaehwan on the bed like he weighed nothing. Jongin smirked when his ears picked up Jaehwan’s aroused whimper; flashed him a pleased smile after obeying his order of staying still. Jongin walked to the foot of the bed, taking in the debauched state of this incautious man, unaware of the fate awaiting him.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s get to it,” Jaehwan complained, sounding pitiful in his urgency. He opened his thighs in invitation, as if tempting Jongin to speed up things.

Jongin ran a hand through his hair and assessed him with a cool stare. “How do you want it? Different partners need different things.” He didn’t miss the way Jaehwan’s eyes followed the movement of his hands as he popped open the top two buttons of his shirt, or the blatant want glazing his eyes at the minimum amount of exposed skin. “Tell me your desires.”

Jaehwan’s face turned several shades of embarrassed, conflicted, and aroused in mere seconds. “I… I like it rough,” he sounded timid in the admission, and painfully honest. Gone was the rich, powerful figure Jongin first met, replaced by this needy and meek man keen on pleasing his partner. A true self shown only in bed, hidden away from the rest of the world. “What about you? What can I do to satisfy you?”

Jongin chuckled; listed his head. “Hmm, that’s a very tall order, and too much for one night. But I’ll give you a hint. It’s something you can do without moving.”

Jaehwan perked up, and Jongin beckoned him close with a curl of his finger. Jaehwan crawled up to him right away, stopping to kneel before him. Jongin cupped Jaehwan’s jaw once within reach, tipping it up so they could make eye contact. Smirked.

“I like it red.”

The windows and light fixtures exploded without warning. A violent gust of wind howled in its fierce entry, whipping broken shards further into the room. Jaehwan screamed, sliding back up the bed, searching for an escape route. The lush interior of the room faded into nothingness, swallowed by a boundless darkness.

A red, velvety petal fluttered out of nowhere and fell soundlessly to join the piles of countless others beneath Jongin’s feet; around him and the surrounding ground. Behind Jongin, a gargantuan camellia tree stood tall and regal: sturdy brown trunk, ruby red flowers in full bloom, thick fragrance perfuming the air. The full moon sat high on a skyless space above them—gleaming, ominous.

Jaehwan gawked, face pale. The sharp tang of fear rolled off him in waves. Jaehwan fired question after question, demanding to know where Jongin had taken him; the meaning of this. Squawked after blinking twice, pointing a shaking finger at Jongin.

“Y-you—your eyes! They’re red and—they’re like a snake’s!” Jaehwan’s gaze lowered. Another squawk. “You have a fucking _tail_?”

Sensitive ears ringing from the yapping, Jongin flexed his fist, human hand morphing into a claw; teleported in front of a ranting Jaehwan and swiped it across his chest. Blood oozed from the shallow trenches; dripped down the tips of Jongin’s elongated nails and on the petals. Jaehwan’s ranting segued to a pained scream. 

The ground rumbled beneath them. A sign of hunger, a clear warning.

“W-what did you do to me?” Jaehwan demanded, enraged but scared, hands patting his slashed torso, screeching at the sight of his own blood. Screeched in a higher decibel when he finally saw Jongin’s demon hand, further shattering the illusion of his fake human form. “I must be dreaming—this can’t be! You’re a monster!”

“How vile.” Jongin wrinkled his nose in disgust. “We have a name for our kind, though I suppose I can’t count on you to know the difference. Shame. On the other hand, I can differentiate between a decent human being and scum like you who masquerades as one.”

“What the hell did you say?”

The ground rumbled and quaked before tearing open with an ear-splitting crack. Roots shot out and twined around Jaehwan’s neck, wrists, feet. Jaehwan struggled with all his might. The roots clutched tighter, refusing him freedom. Jaehwan’s screams and cries for help rang in the air, and then abruptly stopped.

A thick, sharp root stabbed through Jaehwan’s stomach. Blood spilled and showered the camellia petals a different shade of red. The thick root lifted Jaehwan’s limp body up in the air and further impaled him. Jaehwan’s eyes remained open in his last moment, jaw slack, blood trailing down the corners of his mouth. The scent of iron mixed with the camellia’s heady fragrance. The full moon, once a niveous white disc, trickled with red.

Jongin watched as more roots shot out, completely wrapping up the corpse and lowering it to the ground, swallowed without a trace. In seconds, the tree glowed a luminous red. New flowers bloomed on the bare branches. Within Jongin’s chest, an intangible link thrummed with delight and appreciation.

“The Tree of Discord seems pleased with its meal.”

Jongin turned to Baekhyun, who now stood beside him admiring the tree. “More than pleased. The tree is ecstatic. It’s been a long time since it had this beautiful glow.”

“I have no doubt. I’ve never seen an aura so black in a long time. I’m sure the corrupt human was a delectable meal for our beloved tree.” Baekhyun slung an arm around Jongin’s shoulders and patted his chest. “You did well, brother.”

“I couldn’t have done it without your help,” Jongin said. He flexed his demon hand again. The change was instant, now back to its human camouflage. He hissed at the pain of his nails retracting—not one of his favorite things during transformations. “The enchantments in and out of Privé prove effective in luring corrupt humans inside.”

During Privé’s construction, Baekhyun had been meticulous in applying enchantments that would be hard for corrupt souls to resist. Even if they just happened to pass by with no intention of entering the club, the enchantments would entice the corrupt humans to step inside, stay a while. From there, either Jongin would approach them as a potential meal for the Tree of Discord, or they would find him first.

“You won’t ask, but I’ll tell you,” Baekhyun said. “Son Jaehwan, unwanted bastard child of a _chaebol_. One of the country’s most wanted. Heavily involved in sex trafficking minors, firearms smuggling, deep ties with the mob. He’s been linked to grisly rape-slay cases from five years ago. The evidences were strong against him, but the judge was bribed in declaring him innocent. The witnesses started vanishing one by one, and the victim’s families were harassed and threatened nonstop until they fled.”

Past sacrifices to the Tree of Discord shared similar stories. Most times Jongin didn’t bother knowing more about the lives of these corrupt humans before their deaths. Baekhyun often forgot this detail on purpose, sharing without caring to ask for his permission. Although Jongin washed his hands off most Human Realm affairs, and wondered slightly how Baekhyun sniffed out top secret information, the eerie similarities of these corrupt humans aided Jongin in ascertaining one thing: none of them deserved to live.

What the humans could not do, the Tree of Discord took full responsibility. It gladly consumed these corrupt humans, feasting on their flesh and blood and soul. The tree’s appetite for this specific type of human rose when the moon was full and ripe. Harvest Moons, as the ancestors had come to call it. If not for an ancestor’s mistake of feeding the Tree of Discord, then an ailing sapling, with corrupt humans it dragged from the Human Realm for three nights straight during a full moon phase, the tradition wouldn’t have existed. The tree wouldn’t have been difficult to appease with its acquired taste, even if the ancestor had salvaged it from its dying state.

Now, there was no stopping the Tree of Discord’s rise of appetite during Harvest Moons. A time when Jongin worked his hardest to hunt for the most corrupt of corrupt. A time when Jongin seduced amoral humans to their deaths instead of feeding from them. A time when people mysteriously disappeared, usually the high-profile criminals on the police’s most wanted list. If reports of their disappearances landed on the news, or insinuations of their potentials deaths, the masses were more relieved than anything.

“How many corrupt humans are you hunting tonight?” Baekhyun asked. “Will you return to Privé, or will you hunt in the city grounds?”

“I might return to Privé after a few hours. I’ll lurk in other clubs and bars for now,” Jongin said, watching the tree’s continuous glow.

“This will last two more nights. Careful not to mix business with pleasure.”

Jongin feigned annoyance with a huff. It was no secret he sometimes fed on the victims’ sexual energy before tossing them like slabs of meat to the Tree of Discord. Hunting on Harvest Moons sapped him of his energy at times, and he wasn’t one to resist lust when presented to him so willingly.

“I am not you.”

“Definitely. There can only be one of me in the Three Realms.” Baekhyun chuckled when Jongin slugged his arm. “And there can only be one of you. The one and only Guardian of the Tree of Discord.”

Blood was not an unfamiliar sight or smell to Jongin.

A lie to claim he was born not disgusted by it. The road to immunity was a lengthy process, saddled with too many trials and errors; embarrassing moments. Drilled into his head from the long hours of studying and training was the necessity for blood to flow and touch any part of the Tree of Discord—trunk, petals, branches, flowers—before it could eat its prey. Inflicting a wound to draw blood was important. Jongin was taught where to aim, how to do it.

On his very first Harvest Moon, when he’d been declared officially ready to assume his role as Guardian, he offered his first target to the tree before fainting from the sensory overload: the repugnant, metallic scent, the slimy texture running in rivulets down his claws and skin. Though his first hunt had been hailed a success, Jongin chose to forget on purpose.

Baekhyun had understood his plight; spared judgment, hissed in warning at those who dared. Jongin had relied on Baekhyun’s guidance and support on moments he blamed himself for his squeamishness after each hunt, a behavior unbecoming for a demon bequeathed with an enviable responsibility. The problem hadn’t been his unwillingness to wound humans, Baekhyun had pointed out, but more of his unaccustomed exposure to the volumes of spilled blood in one night.

The hunts had increased in number; Harvest Moons came and passed. Somewhere between, Jongin had progressively adapted, grown stronger resistance to his knee-jerk revulsion. Luring prey had become increasingly simple and easy, and no longer did he flinch at the sight of red dribbling out from open gashes. The foul stink of some humans’ blood had been less pleasant on some occasions, clinging to his skin sticky and stubborn. After catching and feeding a serial murderer on the run to the Tree of Discord, blood splashing on his cheek, Jongin had barely recoiled; merely wiped it away with the back of his claw.

So Jongin couldn’t understand why, in this dream that had been haunting him for years, the blood staining his claws repulsed him the most. He smelled a sweet, metallic pungence like no other—sweeter than any corrupt human’s blood—yet he couldn’t find the source; why his claws shook the longer he stared. Why he wanted to scream but couldn’t, the sound trapped at the back of his throat.

The rain pattered lightly outside the window. Jongin was wide awake and lounging in bed, unanswered questions swirling in his mind. The Tree of Discord was surprisingly ravenous in the past three nights, and he’d expended his powers collecting its meals. His body ached in some places, proof that some prey weren’t always frozen in fear and fought back, albeit futile. Exhaustion was rare for him; hunger, rarer. The grumbling of his stomach was a first in years, his mouth craving for tangible food.

“Awake now, brother?” Baekhyun’s loud, boisterous voice was the first thing Jongin heard upon entering the kitchen. Baekhyun was perched on a stool at the kitchen island, laptop open, screen showing scenes from an online game he’d been obsessed with since his discovery. One hand was stationed on the keyboard, the other on the mouse tap-tap-tapping in rhythmic succession. A box of untouched takeout sat lonesome to the left. The scent of artificial cheese wafted from the pile of empty bags dumped on the floor. “Couldn’t have taken the time to throw on a robe?”

Jongin grunted and pulled out a bottle of yogurt from refrigerator. “We’re in the privacy of our penthouse. Clothes are bothersome.” By will alone, one of his fangs elongated and used it to puncture through the sealed covering. Yogurt squirted from the hole. Jongin cleaned it up with a lick and drank. He spied finger-shaped orange crumbs on the sink. Their etiquette teacher would have a fit if they knew how much of a slob his prim and proper older brother could be in the Human Realm.

Gunshot sounds and rapid keystrokes answered him. Baekhyun didn’t say anything until he’d drained his yogurt. “You sound exhausted.” A pause; then, in a softer voice: “Did you dream again?”

Jongin blinked, and he saw flashes of his shaking, red-stained claws. He blinked again, and he was looking at the spotless tiled floor. “I don’t know what the dream is telling me, or if carries a secret message.” He scanned the contents of the refrigerator once more. Sports drinks and bottled water occupied most of the space. The yogurt was running out. “Our kind is not known to dream. It must mean something if I do—what more if it’s the same dream over again?”

Curses and more gunshots filled the ensuing silence, Baekhyun too immersed in his game to provide an immediate answer. “An after-effect of the Harvest Moon, perhaps? You’ve a tendency to be delicate after seeing too much blood.”

Jongin would’ve considered the first answer in the past, but it dissatisfied him now in a vague way he couldn’t pinpoint. Instead of refuting, he sauntered over to Baekhyun’s side, fishing the contents of the takeout box that said “Mom’s Touch.” He sniffed at the unwrapped burger a few times. Chicken, ham, egg, maybe lettuce—he couldn’t remember the name of the crop. One bite. Jongin surprisingly liked what he tasted. His grumbling stomach agreed. Human Realm food had been mostly a miss than a hit in the years Jongin lived here. He much preferred feeding on sexual energy. The energies produced by the major sins were passable, too, if he was hungry but not in the mood for one-night stands.

Jongin startled at Baekhyun’s sudden shout. The words “Game Over” in red, capital letters flashed across the screen.

“You do not really excel in this game.”

“Nonbelievers will be scratched in warning.”

“We’ve done worse roughhousing growing up. A scratch is nothing—it will heal right back.”

“I’ll bite you. Let’s see how you like that.” Baekhyun showed his fangs in a playful smirk. He closed the window and switched to a news feed.

The news currently airing showed the police’s yellow tape barricading a crime scene, dried blood smeared on the pavement, not a body in sight. A man in his forties was reported missing last night, abandoned belongings found on site positively identified by his family. Surveillance cameras in the surrounding area had stopped working when the crime took place, so suspicions of foul play were high. The victim’s family was clueless about potential suspects, or the motive behind the murder, if proven.

Jongin noticed the crime scene was close to the pavilion and pond surrounded by trees at Yeouido Park.

A different news report came on, but Baekhyun’s eyes were trained on the screen. “Murder without a doubt.”

“How do you know this?”

“I’ve been following the case since the first report.” Baekhyun grinned, the tips of his fangs gleaming under the kitchen lights. “Four absolute truths surround this mystery: no bodies are ever found; bloodstains are the only evidence of the missing human’s final whereabouts; the crime is never caught on tape despite surveillance cameras working perfectly; and all the killings happened in the same location. The police have been investigating for a month. No leads. No progress. Intriguing, really.”

Jongin furrowed his brows. “How sure are you the missing humans have been killed?”

“I do my own investigations between court duties. So, contrary to your belief, I’m not slacking off on overseeing Privé. Some matters are just more fun for me at the moment.” The mirth vanished from Baekhyun’s face at his next set of statements. “I am more than convinced this is a murder. It is faint, but I sensed lingering traces of a sinister presence at the crime scenes when I snooped around.” His face darkened. “There is a stray demon on the loose, and I will hunt it down.”

“Impossible,” was Jongin’s first reaction. Took it back. “It has to be a lesser demon wreaking havoc after turning on its summoner.”

Higher demons like him and Baekhyun possessed a far tremendous amount of power as direct descendants of the Demon King. Crossing over was never a difficult or impossible feat for them. The nobles owned significantly more power than lesser demons, but none of them were interested in the Human Realm. Lesser demons could never cross over to the Human Realm unless called through a summoning circle, which was easily accessible to any hapless human, or someone with innate powers like a witch. It was also no secret lesser demons could trick or manipulate their summoners into setting them free, often ending in breach of contracts and violent deaths.

“It is difficult to ascertain,” Baekhyun confessed. “I cannot predict when and where the demon will appear next. I have been scouting every inch of Yeouido Park just in case. I have yet to succeed in tracking down both victim and demon.”

“Do you need my help?”

“Not for now,” Baekhyun said, “but I am grateful for your offer. At the moment, focus on resting. Replenish your strength. Will you be dancing tonight?”

“Yes. Work is work, regardless of my state of being.” Jongin licked off the chicken grease from his fingers. His stomach was sated, but the strength of his body wasn’t fully restored. The same places still ached. “I might feed before returning. The hunts have worn me out more than expected.”

Privé never disappointed in supplying Jongin with eligible bed partners. Dancing was an art form he was exceptional at and commended for in the Demon Realm; here, he used it to his advantage in surveying the crowd as he fed on their cheers, their lust. The aches ebbed; his body revived. Sin energy wasn’t as potent as sexual energy, but the exquisite taste was worth dancing for.

Jongin kindled the audience’s enthusiasm by lifting the hem of his muscle tee, screams rising in pitch at the flash of defined abdominals. Lust surged, strong as an ocean tide. Jongin dove headfirst into it, hip gyrations and body rolls turning the most demure men and women into potty mouths. Before the night finished, one of them would end up in bed with him, and he’d wring every last drop of sexual energy from their being.

The perfect candidate initiated eye contact with him from across the room—a man in his early twenties, fairly attractive, casually dressed. Jongin responded to the challenge; maintained the stare as he timed his movements to the bass, sliding his hands over his body in teasing caresses. The crowd collectively howled their approval; chanted for more. The young man neither blinked nor looked away, though his cool blue aura tipped Jongin of his nervousness.

The nervousness doubled and the blue of his aura darkened when Jongin approached him at the bar after his dance number. Coaxed out his name with a few sweet words (Sukjung); guessed if this was his first time in clubs (no). Jongin hoped Sukjung wasn’t a first-timer in bed. Virgins were highly preferred by demons, Jongin no exception, but he wasn’t looking to lead someone right now.

Sukjung was definitely _not_ a first-timer in the way he flirted during their limited conversation before they upped and left; the way he ran a provocative, impatient hand from Jongin’s nape down to the small of his back on their migration to the alley behind Privé. Jongin pushed up Sukjung against the wall; dragged a palm over his firm chest and soft belly through the fabric of the shirt, trailed teasing fingers along the zipper and shamelessly squeezed the obvious bulge. A breathless gasp left Sukjung’s mouth, eyes wide but not fearful. Jongin tamped down a smirk. A sensitive one. He foresaw multiple orgasms in sight. A certified banquet.

“Hard already? This is just the bare minimum.” Jongin rubbed Sukjung through his jeans, applying the right amount of pressure that rewarded him with a needy whine.

“Bare minimum?” Sukjung squealed, incredulous. His hips moved in tandem with Jongin’s hand, seeking friction. “It feels like I’m going to come just from your hand.”

Jongin greedily fed on the sexual energy Sukjung was producing. “I’m flattered. I can do more with my hands, if you want.”

“Yes, good, _more_—”

The rest of Sukjung’s sentence was lost to the guttural retching from the end of the alley.

Jongin didn’t care about one drunk human who couldn’t hold his alcohol and nipped at Sukjung’s neck with playful bites, intending to feed as much as he could. Sukjung wasn’t cooperating, however, distracted by the hurling noises.

“Attention on me.” Jongin emphasized the order with a harder nip to the junction of Sukjun’s neck, minding his fangs.

Sukjung let out a combination between a yelp and a moan, but his head remained turned to the side, gazing off to where a man was hunched over. The man was pouring his guts out on the pavement. “That man doesn’t look like he’s in a good condition.”

Sukjung’s arousal waned together with the sexual energy. Jongin almost groaned aloud at the loss. This _couldn’t_ be happening. He took a deep breath to dispel his impatience. “Do you want to go check on him or get laid? Which one?”

The arrival of someone else served as Jongin’s answer. Perhaps a friend of the drunk, vomiting man, from the way he handled him, murmuring assurances too soft to hear by the average human ear. Jongin’s demon hearing helped him tune in to their conversation.

“Why do you drink so much then lose control of yourself?” the newcomer asked, soft-spoken and gentle even in his admonishment. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Demon vision granted Jongin a better look at this newcomer: a man with black hair, about as tall as him in height when he stood up and carefully took his drunk friend with him, skin pale like moonlight. The drunk tried pushing away his friend, insisting he wasn’t too inebriated; swayed on his feet and toppled forward. He would’ve planted face first on the spot he vomited on if not for his friend catching him by the arm, preventing the tragedy, and slung it around his shoulder. They began walking away.

“I said I’m fine! I was having a good time with those girls—why’d you stop me?”

“I don’t think those girls would’ve appreciated you throwing up on them. You looked two seconds away from heaving into one of their laps.”

“Psh, such a party pooper. Stop being so uptight. Why do you think I dragged you out of your house?”

“To attract your next lay? Stop glaring at me—I know you make me tag along so you can use me as bait. Hey, wait, let’s stop by that GS25. Gonna get you a hangover cure for tomorrow real quick.”

The rest of their conversation faded until Jongin couldn’t hear or sense them nearby anymore. His appetite had dipped until Sukjung’s fingers curled around his nape and pulled his head close.

“Hey, are we still doing this or not?” Sukjung asked, nosing along the column of Jongin’s neck. “Funny how you’re more interested in those two than I was.”

Jongin smelled the return of his lust, slow but sure. So did his hunger.

Sukjung’s stamina was impressive for a human. The abundance of sexual energy emitted from many rounds of sex sustained Jongin through the night. By morning’s rise, after Jongin had worn out Sukjng from the multiple orgasms he predicted he would give him, in the silence of the dingy apartment, his mind drifted back to the man with black hair and soft-spoken voice.

The dream of bloodstained claws returned.

Jongin wasn’t surprised anymore finding himself standing in the meadow under the clear, cloudless sky; by the trembling of his claws, or his revulsion for the sweet, metallic scent.

The ticklish sensation of grass soft and short beneath his bare feet was new.

So was the wet and disturbing stickiness touching the tips of his toes.

Jongin looked down to check.

A pool of blood rapidly flowed across the grass, some of it following the path of the numerous cracks along the surface of the earth. Jongin stood frozen in place as he stared at the blood, horrified and inexplicably distressed; entire body turning cold, mouth opening but no sound coming out.

Jongin gasped for air at the same time his eyes flew open. His heart beat wild and fast against his ribcage. He calmed himself with deep breaths; processed the new information the dream unveiled.

The recurrence of this dream should’ve provided him with complete recollection of whose blood it was by now. Yet Jongin continued playing this guessing game with no end in sight. The blood _should_ belong to one of the thousands he’d hunted and fed to the Tree of Discord. He never wounded humans outside of Harvest Moons; didn’t treat them like sport. In his long term as a Guardian, Jongin recalled cornering some targets in grassy places; meadows, if spring. Barefoot, sometimes. The tremendous fear? He didn’t remember a time any of his targets prompted said emotion in him; always, unfailingly, the other way around.

And so the mystery remained unsolved: whose blood was on his claws to incite crippling sorrow and loss in a hardened demon?

Attempts at seeking the answer failed, doubling Jongin’s frustration on the matter. Today was no exception, new addition to the dream basically useless if he couldn’t identify the source of the blood. Jongin kicked off the covers, glaring at the sunlight pouring in from the windows like it offended him. Gone were the rainy days, and the sweltering heat of summer invaded once more. The humans complained about the preposterous temperatures; warned of it, so they could arrange plans in accordance with the weather. Jongin basked in the humidity, hardly breaking a sweat on his walk at Yeouido Park.

Contrary to the grim images humans painted about his kind, Jongin didn’t enjoy exclusively lurking at night; in darkness. His primary objective for crossing over to the Human Realm was Guardian duties, though he didn’t limit himself to a penthouse-and-Privé-only routine. Beyond a decade of living in the Human Realm taught him of their ways and customs, how to properly blend in human society, technology and the fascination inventions borne from it. Contraptions like phones were burdensome to Jongin but kept one on Baekhyun’s insistence to throw off suspicion. Nature and wildlife he enjoyed, despite the humans’ criminal misuse and neglect of them.

Assorted auras were scattered in the park, unavoidable in large, public spaces. Majority shone with an iridescence common among untainted humans. Jongin sensed a few corrupt humans nearby, but the smatterings of gray invading the black of their auras told of seeking redemption. They could’ve served as the Tree of Discord’s appetizers had it been a Harvest Moon.

He picked out a few lustful thoughts walking past several picnicking humans, gazes drinking in the sight of him. Jongin sent a smile their way; smothered amused laughter at the salacious thoughts, questions wondering what he looked naked, two vivid scenarios involving him tangled with their bodies skin on skin. Jongin was far from starving, but the tendrils of lust were like dessert to a huge meal.

His last conversation with Baekhyun surfaced. The pavilion and pond and its surrounding areas were declared off-limits for now. The remainder of the park would remain open to the public, people cautioned to not amble about alone and be on the lookout for their companions. Baekhyun shared the netizens’ collective theory of a psychopath who knew the ins and outs of the park and how to disconnect cameras before committing the actual crime. Jongin didn’t buy it. Baekhyun’s speculation of a wild demon on the loose fit more. In the half hour he’d been walking in the park, Jongin recognized no sinister presence unique to a demon.

A ball rolled by Jongin’s feet. Barks from the distance. A fluffy white mass bound up to him, and if not for the barking, Jongin would’ve mistaken the creature as a moving cloud. The dog was about take the ball using its mouth but saw Jongin. Angry barks tore through its tiny throat. Jongin raised an eyebrow at the noisy dog. He wouldn’t put it past some animals to see through his human skin.

“Vivi!”

Hair black as the deepest night. Skin pale as moonlight. A voice Jongin remembered with extreme clarity, despite hearing it only once.

The man slowed to a walk once he was close enough, placed his hand on his thighs and struggled to catch his breath. “Vivi, you can’t just bark at random strangers,” was the first thing he told the dog. “It’s rude. You’re going to scare people away. That’s not nice.”

The soft-spoken man from that night.

Vivi stared at the soft-spoken man for a moment then barked at Jongin again.

“Vivi,” the man called the dog’s name like a command, though he never raised his voice. An iridescent aura surrounded his form. Jongin wasn’t shocked this man would be an untainted.

Vivi took the ball and bound back to the man’s side, but not without glaring at Jongin one last time.

The man sighed; offered Jongin an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for that. Vivi doesn’t usually bark at strangers. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

Jongin held up a hand in assurance. “It’s fine, he didn’t scare me.” Vivi growled. The man hushed him. Jongin felt in the mood to tease, smiled at Vivi. “Vivi is very cute. Is he yours?”

The soft-spoken man nodded, smile looking more relaxed. He was probably worried Jongin wouldn’t take kindly to dogs randomly barking at strangers. “Vivi was a present from my older brother. He thought I would be lonely by myself, so he got me a companion. Vivi’s a good boy when he’s not being a brat, but I love him just the same.” It showed in fondness in his eyes, even if Vivi was paying more attention to the toy. “I’m really sorry Vivi barked at you out of nowhere.” The soft-spoken man sounded apologetic; looked the part as he bowed. He retrieved the ball, and Vivi’s tail wagged in anticipation. “Have a good day ahead.”

“Wait.”

The soft-spoken man looked as surprised as Jongin felt. Jongin didn’t know what compelled him to stop the man from leaving, or why the thought of it sparked an odd feeling he couldn’t label. Jongin covered up his blunder by asking, “How’s your friend doing after getting drunk?”

The man’s eyes widened in surprise. Narrowed in suspicion just as fast. Frowned. “How do you know about that?”

“I was at the alley when he started puking his guts out. No, I wasn’t stalking either of you. I was there making out with someone. I happened to remember your face, even with minimal lighting in the alley.”

“Oh!” The soft-spoken man’s cheeks reddened. “My friend is doing alright. He had a hangover the next morning, but that’s expected. I told him to take it easy—look where his stubbornness landed him.” He sighed. “Are you acquainted with him? He has a lot of friends I don’t have a clue about.”

“No. That night was the first time I saw the both of you.”

Vivi barked, demanding attention. The man threw the ball. On Vivi’s return, the most unbelievable thing Jongin had heard from a human came out of the man’s mouth.

“Say, would you like to join me for a meal?”

Jongin raised two eyebrows this time. It didn’t mean he was completely turned off by the idea. However: “We’ve only met. Why are you inviting a complete stranger to eat with you?”

“I don’t like eating alone, to be honest,” the soft-spoken man said, a little shy in his confession. “Vivi makes great company, but one-sided conversations can get tiring.”

“You mentioned an older brother. Why don’t you eat with him?”

“He isn’t around most of the time.” The soft-spoken man looked sad when he said this.

Jongin’s eyebrows remained raised, skeptical but undeniably intrigued. He wasn’t new to humans and their innocence. He’d met many like this soft-spoken man who blindly trusted with a few well-placed words, but nobody was fast to befriend a stranger like him.

“What makes you think I’m someone worth your offer?” Jongin couldn’t help but ask, a secret side of him wanting to challenge this soft-spoken man’s good will. “How sure are you I won’t take advantage of your kindness?”

The soft-spoken man looked shier with his next reply, almost hesitant. “It looked like you wanted me to stay when I was about to leave. I could be wrong in reading you, but that’s what it felt like to me. And I wouldn’t know about you taking advantage of my kindness. What I do know is that if you were truly a bad person, you wouldn’t have inquired about my friend’s condition. Concern doesn’t exist for those types of people.”

Jongin’s bafflement increased the more he spoke. Completely innocent or completely foolish: the man belonged to one of these categories. In usual situations, he would’ve scoffed, but the whole conversation, confounding as it was, entertained him enough to break out in honest laughter.

“You—what’s so funny?” the soft-spoken man asked, bewildered, then indignant on his next reply. “I don’t think I said anything funny? I don’t get why you’re laughing…”

Jongin composed himself. “Apologies. It was not my intention to make fun of you. I do find your thought process intriguing.”

_For a human._

The soft-spoken man’s annoyed expression lasted five seconds. “So, do you want to go on that meal with me? We don’t have to talk about ourselves if that makes you uneasy. All we’ll do is eat then go our separate ways. Unless you have somewhere to be, or would rather be in the company of others on your level?”

“What makes you say that?”

“In case you’re oblivious or playing it off, people around us have been ogling at you nonstop. Are you a celebrity or model I’m not aware of? Oh, shit.” The soft-spoken man’s face looked shocked and regretful. “Wait, if you are, you must’ve come here to relax in peace. I’m sorry for not being sensitive, and if I blew your cover.”

Jongin cast a sweeping glance at the humans around them. He couldn’t do anything about the staring, or the curls of lust overriding the admiration. His focus returned to the soft-spoken man before him, waiting for an answer.

“I’m neither. I’ll take you up on your offer of that meal.”

“Great!” The soft-spoken man smiled, eyes crinkling. “Come on, I’ve set up a picnic blanket not far from here. By the way, my name’s Sehun. What’s yours?”

Days before and after Harvest Moons sailed by in a glacial pace. Entertainment sources were few and far between for Jongin, who spent his waiting dancing at Privé, feeding on one-night stands if he was strapped of strength, sometimes taking calls from Baekhyun asking him to buy food from this or that shop if his phone battery was strong enough to withstand a one-minute conversation. Delivery apps could grant the request faster, Jongin had reasoned in the past, irritated by Baekhyun’s treatment of him as an errand demon. Exploring every inch of the Human Realm would help them gain knowledge beneficial to their goals, Baekhyun had countered with an impish smile dusted with Cheetos powder.

In the end, Jongin had begrudgingly agreed that running to and fro aided in familiarizing himself with Seoul’s streets major and hidden; the nooks and crannies no one would bat an eye at twice.

Business at Privé was slow tonight. Jongin didn’t need to feed, wasn’t in the mood to socialize, so he stayed in the office after his performance. He’d just plugged in his phone to charge after it died on his YouTube binge when it rang, Baekhyun’s name flashing on the screen.

“I’ll see you at the pavilion by the pond.”

Jongin jumped at the chance of his boring night taking an interesting turn. He teleported right away to the specified location. Baekhyun was seated on the steps leading to the pavilion on his arrival, gaze firmly fixed somewhere. Jongin followed his line of sight.

A group of rambunctious drunks were singing in loud, off-key voices as they zigzagged randomly down the bicycle path. One of them wore a funny hat, leading the group and egging on their ridiculous singing. The yellow police tape must’ve attracted their attention, atrocious singing coming to a halt. They dared each other to cross over in overlapping shouts. Funny Hat Guy volunteered himself, walking under the yellow tape and pumping his fists in the air victoriously. The others clapped and hooted at his bravery.

Jongin shook his head. “Fools. All of them.”

“My younger brother, forever a rule abider no matter what realm,” Baekhyun teased.

Jongin prepared to throw a retort but the spike of a sinister presence made him abandon the idea.

One of the trees shook violently, albeit the stark absence of a strong wind. A blurry figure burst out from the top of the tree, the lampposts revealing its true form. Claws freakishly large it looked far too heavy to be supported by its tree-branch-thin limbs. Black nails gleaming with a lethal sharpness. A large mouth with rows of protruding fangs; skin taut against bone and a sickly carnelian in color. Hollow, dead eyes glowing with a hunger so palpable it intensified at the sight of the unsuspecting Funny Hat Guy.

The hooting turned to scared screams. Funny Hat Guy wore a dumb look on his face, demanding for his friends to stop running and tried catching up to them. He didn’t get very far and tripped on his own feet.

Baekhyun stood and walked down the steps, cracking his knuckles. His mouth twisted into a delighted smirk, pupils slitted and glowing red. “About damn time this scoundrel showed itself.”

Jongin flexed his hands, claws breaking out, nails lengthening. His tail grew, swaying behind him. “And the other drunks?”

“Knock them outcold. They’re nuisances.”

After handling the drunks, Jongin teleported back to find Baekhyun already fighting the demon. Funny Hat Guy was unconscious on the grass but wasn’t dead. Jongin was about to head over and help but was stopped by the shaking of the other trees; the amount of sinister presences multiplying and flaring to life.

Baekhyun was right about a demon on the loose.

Baekhyun was wrong about the number.

Jongin tore through the swarm of demons that charged at him, ripping them to shreds. None of them stood a chance against his speed, strength, or claws. Body parts flew in every direction; black blood splattered and sizzled on the grass. The demons continued to attack in spite of their missing limbs. Jongin aimed for the necks when they pounced on him again. Heads were torn off; bodies fell, convulsed, and ultimately ceased movement. Decapitation, always the most effective way to kill a demon.

More demons attacked Jongin from behind. Jongin raised his hand and aimed a blaze of deadly scarlet fire at them. The demons perished before they could let a single sound out. Meters away, Baekhyun unleashed his own blue fire and roasted the flock of demons that pounced at him, screeches of pain disintegrating together with their bodies. The sinister presences rapidly dwindled in number as Jongin and Baekhyun exterminated them by claws and fire. The last one Baekhyun eviscerated in anger at its audacity for attempting to slash his throat.

In the aftermath, the stink of demon blood permeated the air, headless corpses and their dismembered parts turning to ash, random patches of grass catching fire in scarlet and blue. Jongin closed his fist, and the scarlet flames cleared at once. Water would never work on demon fire. His eyes scanned the trees; narrowed at the suspicious glint of red coming from a branch, but it vanished as fast as it appeared.

“My grave miscalculation,” Baekhyun commented, solemnly. His claws dripped with black blood, shirt torn in places where demons must’ve tried grabbing at him in vain. His silver tail swished behind him, its pointed edge stained black. A restless energy rolled off him as he surveyed their surroundings. “I should’ve known there was more than one lurking about.”

“I’ve never seen lesser demons like that before.” Old texts and scripts had educated Jongin on the different subclasses of lesser demons. To his recollection, none of them mentioned these lesser demons with red skin.

“Quite peculiar these lesser demons did not recognize us,” Baekhyun said, flicking the black blood away from his fingers. “They would know better than to attack their sovereigns.”

“Perhaps they’ve gone Feral?” Jongin suggested. A Feral state could only be triggered if the demon caved in to their hunger, an emotional upheaval, or absorption of excessive infernal energy. Logic would be eroded by the basest instincts, sometimes impossible to reverse. All demons were susceptible to it, regardless of status.

Baekhyun hummed, a distracted sound. His face looked deeply contemplative. “Jongin, are you sure the Tree of Discord hasn’t been acting up as of late?”

Jongin didn’t understand what the tree had to do with this but answered, anyway. “It’s displayed a voracious appetite during the recent Harvest Moon, but it is not a strange occurrence. The amount of infernal energy it gives out to sustain the Demon Realm and supply our powers needs to be replaced, after all.”

Baekhyun looked like he wanted to say something but changed his mind at the last moment. The Funny Hat Guy began to stir. Baekhyun held up his hand, and a flame burst to life, tall and bright and icy blue. He ordered, “Let the witnesses forget about the horrors of tonight.”

The flame floated away from Baekhyun’s palm, wrapping around Funny Hat Guy’s head. Though the flame was expectedly hot, it didn’t burn his skin, and he showed no signs of pain. After it was done erasing his memory, the flame went in search of Funny Hat Guy’s other friends, disappearing from sight.

“I will return to the Demon Realm,” Baekhyun announced. “Something is not adding up in my investigations, and there has been an increase in reports of unusual activity.”

Jongin’s interest immediately piqued. “What has been happening back home?”

“Citizens have reported sighting suspicious figures lurking about. I’ve to talk to the soldiers stationed on site. It’s not a high-risk job at the moment, and may it stay that way. Right now, focus on the Tree of Discord, keep being attuned with its moods and hunger. Inform me at once if it’s acting strange.”

Jongin watched Baekhyun walk away and disappear in a trail of dark purple smoke. Instead of returning to Privé, he teleported someplace else.

In the shrine exclusively accessible to the Guardian stood the Tree of Discord, showing no apparent changes compared to the last time—still ethereal, still growing ruby red camellias. Jongin walked close enough to lay a hand on the trunk. His shared link with the tree pulsed to life, singing a song of welcome; of elation. Jongin pressed a cheek against the trunk and wrapped his arms around it as far they would go, sighing in content at the infernal energy generously showered to him. As its Guardian, Jongin discovered he had access to an endless supply of infernal energy vital to summoning the tree during Harvest Moon; the core of his strength and powers.

Jongin teleported to the top of the tree and lay down on a long, sturdy branch. A habit he hadn’t outgrown from his demon child days, using it as a napping spot, or his place of escape from scholarly activities if he was tired of sitting indoors the entire afternoon. A habit that had earned him countless lectures from his father, the Demon King, for treating the sacred tree like an ordinary plaything. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t known what the tree symbolized, its significance to their realm; the entire demon race. Baekhyun and their mother had been the only demons patient enough to explain; the rest, acquired knowledge after his path as a Guardian had been foreordained.

“My brother suspects something is wrong with you,” Jongin whispered, caressing the branch with gentle fingers. “I do not sense any unrest or dissatisfaction from you. I would know first if you are unwell, right?”

The Tree of Discord communicated its agreement with a strum of their bond—placating, assuring. Satisfied with the answer, Jongin made himself comfortable. The camellias, in a perpetual state of full bloom, created a canopy of red high above him, aromatic fragrance lulling him to close his eyes.

Jongin wasn’t visited by his recurring dream that night.

In exchange, the scent of camellias clung to his skin for days. No matter how many times he bathed or slathered on perfumed lotions on his skin, the scent would not come off. Tonight’s one-night stand brought it up, asking if he could share where he bought his cologne.

Jongin ran a hand through his one-night stand’s hair. His head was propped up by his other hand. “I don’t use cologne. Do I really smell like camellias?”

The one-night stand nodded with a giggle. “You smell like a whole camellia garden, sweetie.” Their voice skittered an octave on the last word. Jongin held himself back from wincing. Some human voices were not demon ears-friendly. “You remind me of the time I visited the south side of Yeouido Park a week ago? Two weeks ago? Bah, I can’t remember. I went before the weird disappearances started. You smell _exactly_ like the camellias blooming there.”

“I don’t know,” Jongin drawled, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. The one-night stand’s arousal shot up from the mindless action. Predictable, but not unwelcome. “I’d like to think I’m one of a kind, so I should also smell one of a kind.”

Ushering himself out of the apartment after one last round, Jongin teleported to the site where he and Baekhyun encountered the foreign demons. He checked the trees one by one. His careful search affirmed his initial suspicion: no camellia trees were planted here. Yeouido Park was not exactly small, but if he had to check each planted tree here the entire night, then he was up for the challenge.

Throughout his search, Jongin caught an unusual sound—similar to a wail, mellow as a whisper. Shifting focus, he kept his ears open and followed it. The tenuous sound steadily took on a more solid rhythm as Jongin drew nearer, slowing and picking up his pace if he thought he’d found the source, and then proven wrong later. A song, he now ascertained, and finally came upon the source located close to the bridge.

The source none other than the string instrument Sehun was playing.

On a backless bench Sehun sat, back straight, nimble fingers dancing across the strings; aura iridescent as ever. The string instrument was long, made of wood, the upper half of it propped up on Sehun’s lap. Jongin saw no score sheets; deduced Sehun must be playing from memory. He edged closer but kept himself hidden behind the trees, not wanting to disrupt Sehun’s playing.

Jongin closed his eyes, losing himself to the melody. The longer he listened, the sadder the song sounded. He couldn’t explain its magnetic pull, like a spell had been cast on him; the tightening of his chest growing prominent with each note played, the innumerable emotions stirring to life that perplexed him. Sehun continued playing, oblivious to his hidden audience. Jongin continued listening, not retreating or revealing himself.

The song concluded, a gradual fading away to silence. If not for Jongin’s impeccable hearing, he would’ve missed Sehun’s soft sigh mingling with the rustling of the trees.

Sehun sighed once more, gazing at the night sky dotted with stars. A beautiful night in contrast to the harrowing emptiness in his chest, precipitated by the song he played and couldn’t stop playing.

Numerous nights he dreamed of this song. The melody haunted him on his waking hours, refusing to be forgotten, leaving no room for other songs to occupy his mind. For the sake of peace of mind and relieve the itching of his fingers, Sehun took out his _gayageum_ from its case and, relying on his memory, played the piece that invaded his dreams.

He replicated it in one perfect try. Shocked was an understatement: his fingers took a life of their own, strumming the strings with a flourish unusual of him; like he’d played the song a thousand times before. Playing it a second time garnered a similar result. Third, fourth, fifth plays—as if someone possessed, Sehun couldn’t move on from playing this song. Location and time mattered little: if the urge came over, instant gratification was needed. (He drew the line on a backless bench at Yeouido Park at night close to the bridge before security on duty chased him away.) Hearing the first note always brought him a strange sense of peace; a stranger flood of melancholy and longing, never failing to follow.

Tonight, in the courtyard of his house, gayageum on his lap, fingertips thrumming from recently finishing the song, Sehun continued staring at the starlit sky, seeking answers to questions hounding him for days.

A shooting star streaked across the sky.

A blinding pillar of white light shot down the courtyard.

On its dispersal, the figure of a man with a hat on his head and clad in a pearl blue and white hanbok emerged. A sword swung upon his hip, sheathed in a black scabbard that moved with each confident step forward.

Sehun wasn’t alarmed in the slightest. He stayed sitting, smiling at the visitor. “About time you came to visit me again. I was starting to get lonely.”

An excited Vivi bound out from his hiding place under the house, barking in greeting, running in circles around the visitor. The visitor made a shushing noise as he pressed a finger to his lips. Vivi obeyed and sat down, eyes shining in excitement, tail thumping in the same manner.

Sehun shot Vivi an exasperated look. “Whose dog are you, really? I’m your owner, but you listen to Kyungsoo better.”

Kyungsoo’s laugh rang in the tranquil night air. “Vivi takes after you. I’m not surprised he listens more to other people than his owner.”

Sehun frowned openly at that. “Fine, take him back. He listens to you more, anyway.” A shared laugh, and then: “It’s really nice to see you again, Kyungsoo. I meant it when I said that. I meant it, too, when I said I was getting lonely.”

“You know it can’t be helped,” Kyungsoo reminded him gently. “I have been busy with additional work on top of realm affairs. I have a short amount of free time, now. Come, don’t be too sad. I wish to stay longer, too, but my presence has been required more frequently. We should make the most of it and catch up.”

Sehun nodded in approval, despite the twinge of sadness. He didn’t want Kyungsoo’s rare visit to be shadowed by his complaints. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Kyungsoo worked on brewing tea for two, and Sehun worked on keeping a lighthearted atmosphere with stories of what he’d been up to while he was away: taking walks, gardening, work at the traditional music center and funny anecdotes of co-teachers, discovering new compositions to play. Silence reigned for a short time to savor their tea, broken in fragments by the clinking of porcelain and rustling of clothes. Sehun chanted to himself to keep a straight face as he sipped mouthfuls of tea. Kyungsoo’s choice of brew leaned more toward robust and bitter. Sehun chomped on honey rice cakes to scrub away the taste from his tongue.

Conversation started and flowed for a long time. Running out of stories, Sehun volunteered to play the gayageum for Kyungsoo. “We shouldn’t waste this beautiful, serene night just talking,” he reasoned.

Sehun played the happy songs first—compositions he learned at the traditional music center and taught to students in turn. The moment’s pause between the end of the third song and deciding what to play next earned him an arched eyebrow from Kyungsoo. Taking a risk, Sehun played the song he was currently obsessed with, losing himself in the rhythm; the melancholy and longing, warring within.

Kyungsoo was staring intently at him when he finished. His thoughts and feelings were impossible to discern from his impassive face. He didn’t say a word for a few moments.

“Where did you learn to play that?”

“It came to me in a dream,” Sehun confessed. “It’s really weird. I dreamt of it a lot and perfected playing it when I tried once.” He watched Kyungsoo with growing curiosity. “Do you know the song? Did I play it wrong?”

Kyungsoo shook his head, expression growing increasingly surprised. “The song sounds exactly like how you played it. You do have a gift for music. It has always been one of your strengths.”

The compliments banished Sehun’s worries. “Really? Maybe it was. You would know best about that. I trust you. I don’t get something, though. Why does the song sound so sad? Am I playing it wrong?”

“Most definitely not. The title alone will tell you the song was composed with that intention. It’s called _Lover’s Cry_.“

Sehun parroted the title, syllables rolling naturally on his tongue. Rendered speechless by its conception story: a song crafted by the God of Love with the deepest of affections as they pined over their human lover who had long passed, wishing every single day for their impossible return. Regardless of the tragic backstory, _Lover’s Cry_ became a popular ballad in the Holy Realm.

“_Lover’s Cry _is a song not usually performed alone,” Kyungsoo continued, after giving Sehun time to digest the story. “Only the most skilled dancers are picked and taught its accompanying dance for banquets and festivals. Its exquisite melancholy is best showcased and relayed when an ensemble of dancers and gayageum players perform together.”

Sehun pictured commodious courts and elaborate decorations; ornate lanterns and long tables where the gods sat and feasted. He wrinkled his nose. “Why would anyone perform _Lover’s Cry_ on festive events? Do gods thrive on loneliness? What a mood killer. Introduce the trendy pop songs currently playing here. Now _those_ are for partying.”

Kyungsoo laughed loud and boisterous—a rarity for someone whose means of expressing amusement was by grinning wide, even if it came off like a funny grimace most times. “I would think the intention is to show a marvelous performance transcending perfection and less focus on the song choice.”

“Still a weird combination to me.” Sehun’s frown didn’t last long. “Maybe I’ll understand better one day. There are so many things I have to learn again. Sometimes images flash in my mind, but they’re so foggy it’s so hard to figure out what they’re supposed to look like.” He exhaled a deep sigh. Vivi, who had been silently sitting beside Kyungsoo all this time, trotted over to his side and placed a paw on his knee. Sehun smiled and pet Vivi’s head.

“Don’t rush. Don’t force it, either,” Kyungsoo told him, gently. “Everything will fall in their rightful places when it’s time.”

Sehun caressed the bracelet around his right wrist, fumbling with the lone silver charm bound with blue string. Having a name to the song didn’t stifle the intense desire of playing it. Neither did the endless whispers of longing for something he could not identify or understand.

“Ah, that’s right,” Sehun spoke again, after a brief image of Jongin crossed his mind. “I met this weird stranger at the park a few days ago.”

“What about it?”

Sehun rubbed the pad of his thumb on the silver charm, not taking his eyes off the sky. “I only met the stranger once. I invited him to join me for a meal with Vivi. Don’t give me that look, Kyungsoo, you know how much I hate eating alone. Anyway, I did most of the talking since he seemed the quiet type. It should’ve been awkward, but I’d never felt more at ease. You know how you’re on high alert around people you don’t know? That wasn’t the case with him. Oh, right, I’ve never seen anyone eat chicken so deliciously until him!”

Kyungsoo’s responding smile was soft. “It sounds to me you want to be genuine friends with this stranger.”

“You got that right. Now, if only we could meet again…”

Baekhyun’s footsteps echoed hollowly through the tall, empty corridors. At the end was a pair of giant wooden doors with golden knobs and painted red. He threw open the doors, announcing his arrival this way. An immediate silence fell on the room as he strode inside with purposeful steps, approaching the biggest chair at the end of the long table. Already seated were elderly demons with beards and moustaches of assorted colors and lengths, donning steel gray robes unique to council members. Chairs screeched as they stood and bowed. Baekhyun acknowledged them with a tip of his head and sat down, the rest following suit.

“Report,” Baekhyun ordered at once, casting a serious glance across the table.

To his right, the eldest of the council members spoke. “We’ve gathered ample data as you ordered, and we have located where the source of suspicious activity is strongest. The Wasteland matches the citizens’ accounts of where they have seen unknown beings lurking and coming out. Soldiers have been deployed to inspect. One returned to tell the story.”

“One? Out of how many?”

“Fifty.”

Baekhyun scowled. “Forty-nine soldiers slain in a single inspection? Preposterous. Why was there a need to send so many soldiers?”

“We think it is best if you see for yourself,” the council member said, a somberness in his face and voice Baekhyun did not like.

At the infirmary, Baekhyun approached the sole patient confined to the bed, shocked by the appalling state of the slumbering soldier. His head and the right side of his face were wrapped in bandages. The left side was swollen, littered with cuts. Blood seeped through the eye pad, and Baekhyun hoped his suspicion of what happened was incorrect. The soldier’s left arm was encased in an immense cast from knuckles to elbow. Baekhyun stared at the disconcerting flatness of the blanket from the soldier’s right elbow downward.

“The soldier’s arm and eye will grow back after he drinks the restoration tonics,” a demon healer informed Baekhyun through a hushed whisper when he inquired of the soldier’s condition. “We want to prevent the complete breakdown of his body. As he is now, he will be unable to handle the stress of growing missing body parts.”

Low-ranked soldiers of the demon army belonged to the lesser demon class. Most of them required tonics and potions if inflicted damage was too severe to rely on their regenerative abilities alone.

The solider gained consciousness, good eye widening upon seeing Baekhyun. He made to sit up, spluttering, “Y-your Highness!” in a hoarse voice, but Baekhyun gently pushed him down by his good shoulder.

“Rest. Formalities are not your priority right now.” Baekhyun allowed a moment’s passing for the soldier’s hesitation to evaporate. “I have been informed of the deployment of fifty soldiers for an inspection at the Wasteland. Fifty soldiers, yet you are the sole survivor. To my knowledge, unknown beings have been spotted lurking.” He furrowed his brows. “Have you encountered them, by any chance?”

The soldier shuddered, pure horror emanating from his battered frame. “When we received the first report, three soldiers were sent to check the Wasteland for these lurkers. There were no signs of them at the time, but the soldiers mentioned the Wasteland was emitting a curious fragrance on their return.”

“What kind of fragrance?”

“It was an overly sweet scent, Your Highness.”

Baekhyun pressed his lips together, processing this new information. The Wasteland was the last place in the entirety of the Demon Realm to release a sweet fragrance.

“Did you find the exact source of the scent?”

“No, Your Highness. The same three soldiers were ordered to go back for a more thorough inspection. They did not return. Two others and I were sent to go after them, but we only found their armors and swords. We could not find their bodies—gone, just like that. No one knew what caused their disappearance; who or what killed them. The second report we received was an attack at a village situated close to the Wasteland. No survivors. No bodies. More and more villages faced a similar fate. The culprits remained at large. The council became highly alarmed by this ongoing crisis, so they deployed fifty soldiers to investigate and finally end it. I am the result of the investigation.”

Baekhyun couldn’t frown any deeper if he tried. “What are the results of your investigation?”

The soldier’s grim expression was enough to tell Baekhyun the horrors he had faced. “We were surrounded by a sweet, sweet scent. So sweet it was suffocating. Our assailants, they are not of this realm.” His voice was thin with fear.

“Spies? Nonsense,” Baekhyun remarked in disbelief. “The Demon Realm is not so easily penetrated. Who would be so bold and daring to break through our defenses and do as they please?”

“They are not of this realm,” the soldier repeated, this time with more conviction. The look in his eye hardened. “Your Highness, in the centuries I have served in the army, I have witnessed many atrocities in the battlefield and while patrolling borders. But I have never, _ever_ seen demons eat other demons. I truly consider it a miracle I have survived, even if barely. It takes colossal willpower to protect your life at all costs when you can do nothing but scream in the face of horror that tremendous.”

Baekhyun left the infirmary with his mind reeling nonstop. Not even low-class lesser demons at their most desperate would treat their own as game in the face of starvation. Demons had many ways to feed and survive. He wanted answers; determined to resolve this issue once and for all.

He headed for the barracks, the soldiers standing at full attention on his appearance; neutral expressions concealing the devastation from the loss of comrades.

“I will investigate what goes on in the Wasteland myself,” Baekhyun announced, watching the soldiers’ faces closely. “I will not stand to be made a fool by these rogue demons as they freely roam around the realm causing unrest. Those who wish to join me, we leave right this instant.” He sensed the shimmers of bravery coming from a handful, the sadness and hesitation of a few. Ten valiant soldiers stepped forward. 

Wielding swords and torches, the march to the Wasteland was quiet and uneventful. Everybody was on high alert, eyes scanning every millimeter of their surroundings; ears open and sensitive to the tiniest sounds. Reaching the Wasteland required passing through a thick forest filled with nothing but white, dead trees, branches bare and roots protruding, towering over and around them.

The Forest of Silence. A place of eerie quiet one could not even hear their heartbeat. A place where the loudest of footsteps and softest of breaths were stolen by the denseness of trees. At its fringe, Baekhyun reminded the soldiers to stick close; that their sense of hearing would not work until they leave. An unfortunate disadvantage, one they would need to accept, for this was the only route available to reach their destination.

Baekhyun led the soldiers on their journey inside. He held his head high, shoulders squared, steps cautious but confident. Projecting the image of a fearless leader was vital when the soldiers’ morale had taken a blow. He regretted he could not console them at this time, so he hoped to transmit courage and seek justice for their fallen comrades.

Cutting across the Forest of Silence felt almost too easy, albeit the unsettling lack of sound. The heaviness of their footsteps were muted, the crackle of fire absent. Talking was no longer viable, body language coming into play. They treaded lightly, checked twice if they suspected movement from the endlessly dark gaps. Baekhyun picked up on some soldiers’ suppressed distress; a rising apprehension as they crossed deeper into the forest with the temporary loss of their hearing. He could not blame them.

Partway through a clearing, the wind stirred and blew a weak breeze. Baekhyun paused in his tracks; raised a hand for the soldiers to stop. A scent tickled his nose. Faint on the first inhale; stronger on the next. Notes of sweetness, transitory but cloying. Suffocating. Baekhyun had smelled this before but the name eluded him. The soldiers showed recognition of the scent by the widening of their eyes, a unanimous message relayed to Baekhyun: _this was the scent of forewarning._

Baekhyun detected an uncanny presence lurking in the trees, observing from a safe distance. He readied his claws, advancing forward with vigilance as he followed where the presence was strongest. The soldiers drew their swords and followed his lead, alert eyes roaming around.

The cloying scent grew more potent. Baekhyun wrinkled his nose in disgust. A blurred movement among the trees. A torch flew across the air, stealing everyone’s attention.

Something sprang from the trees and barreled into two soldiers at the very back. Baekhyun caught the motion at once, but the next set of events happened too fast. The two soldiers were knocked and pinned down, not given the chance to recover or defend themselves. Claws lashed out, mutilating vital neck veins in one try. Black blood splattered across the white tree trunks, the forest floor. A barbaric feast unfolded before Baekhyun and the others as three demons devoured the newly-slain soldiers.

Demons with carnelian skin and other features eerily similar to those Baekhyun exterminated at Yeouido Park.

One of the soldiers recovered from the shock and swung his sword above his head. He charged at the demon closest to him. A blur burst from the trees and clashed with him.

The sword dropped to the ground first; the soldier’s halved body second.

From the darkness between the tree gaps, glowing red eyes blinked in unison, one by one emerging from their hiding place with murderous intent.

Chaos broke out. Soldiers swung their swords left and right, slicing through the demons. Baekhyun held his ground, grabbing the demons by the necks and severing their head with easy yanks. A demonstration on how to finish them off; the soldiers executing it immediately. Kill or be killed. Red corpses littered the forest floor before disintegrating to ash. More slithered out from the shadows to avenge their brethren. Baekhyun and the soldiers fought against the rising numbers yet they weren’t reducing. They were forced back into a circle, surrounded and outnumbered.

Baekhun noted the wounded state of some soldiers, the exhaustion lining their features. He opened a claw, warmth traveling down his arm and icy blue flames bursting from his palm. He gripped the flames as it molded itself into a whip. He darted forward and lashed at the oncoming demons. The whip struck true. Burns appeared on their skin. Subsequent lashes dealt more punishing burns, and Baekhyun finished them off by ripping the hearts out of their chests. Those that avoided his whip he did not spare. Fireballs were hurtled at the escaping demons with lethal precision, combusting upon contact. The stink of charred flesh permeated Baekhyun’s nostrils, standing surrounded by burning bodies; fiery whip in hand glowing dangerously.

Baekhyun allowed the others to grieve for the demise of their comrades; buried their remains in a secluded corner of the forest upon exit. He was the last to pay homage, murmuring apologies for failing to protect them, chest heavy with regret.

The rest of their travel progressed without any more attacks.

The fetid stench coming from the Wasteland reduced battle-hardened soldiers to weak messes, claws covering their noses. Not even Seoul’s foulest garbage dump sites could compare. Dead trees lined the pathway, leading to the wrought iron gate protected by a barrier that granted access to the Demon King and his family only. Stone walls surrounded the Wasteland and loomed over them, crackling with the energy of ancient incantations that kept outsiders at bay. Baekhyun murmured the chant that lifted the barrier and passed through the gates alone.

The Wasteland did not look any different from the last time he visited. Rolling hills after rolling hills occupied the broad expanse of land. The hills deceptively looked like they were made of soil and rocks when viewed from a safe distance. No ordinary demon would dare edge close to the Wasteland due to its intolerable scent. No ordinary demon would know the hills were comprised of innumerable rotten souls and bore their sunken faces, stuck together like morbidly-carved statues. No ordinary demon would know the incantations on the stone walls also confined these horrors within and prevented escape.

Here was where the unredeemable were sentenced to spend their eternity. Here was where the most nefarious souls used to walk the Human Realm before death claimed them, damned to an eternal life of torment.

Baekhyun bore with the scent; closed his ears to the wails and moans of agony calling out to him for help. He climbed the hills in search of the sweet scent; its source. He left empty-handed and doubting the validity of the reports. If there was a sweet scent, it wasn’t here now; might have migrated to the Forest of Silence during the attack.

The soldiers turned to each other with confused looks when Baekhyun told them this.

“We do not dare lie to you, Your Highness,” one said. “The sweet scent came from here. All of us who have been sent here have smelled it.”

Scents either lasted a long time or lingered for a transitory period. Baekhyun knew of this from the perfumes and colognes sold at the Human Realm; smelling them on bodies that visited Privé, randoms on the streets, the sheets of his one-night stands if he was in the mood for an erotic definition of fun. The possibility of the disputed scent fading before his return was high. 

_“They are not of this realm.”_

Baekhyun’s agreement with the wounded soldier posed another important question: where did these demons come from, if not here?

Baekhyun commanded their immediate return so he could further discuss this with the council.

A new discovery stopped him.

A withered, reddish brown flower was stuck on a dead tree’s branch. Baekhyun picked a dried, fallen petal on the ground. He stumbled back in his shock at the first inhale. Disbelieving, he ripped away the flower and pressed his nose against it for a better, more thorough smell. Finally found its name.

Baekhyun crushed the flower in his fist.

The withered flower and the cloying scent prior to the attack smelled an awful lot like camellias.

The sensation of grass beneath his bare feet was not new to Jongin in his recurrent dream.

He expected bloodstained claws next, but it never followed.

In its absence was the strum of an instrument; a sweet and lovely melody luring him to follow and search. One foot after the other he walked across the meadow, flowers swaying and bowing as a light breeze drifted past. The walk seemed endless, but his search led and ended at a lake on the north fringe of the meadow. The sun sparkled off the lake’s calm waters; serene surroundings a perfect spot for lounging. The melody sounded stronger here. Jongin thought he could hear more of the loveliness, but it ended a little after his arrival.

A momentary silence ensued; then, a new song. The same instrument produced the sounds. Slower in rhythm, doleful in mood. Jongin closed his eyes, gripped by this sorrowful song for reasons unfathomable. He trailed after the sound, chest weighing heavier with every note. The song sounded fuller now that he was drawing near, and the niggling suspicion he’d heard this somewhere before formed at the edge of his conscious.

Jongin came upon a figure sitting under a tree, back to him, moving shoulders and uninterrupted song the obvious indications they were responsible for playing; for the tremors of unexplained longing simmering in the depths of his heart. Though he could not see the figure’s face, Jongin could make out the long, black hair gathered in a ponytail and emerald green robes from the flowing sleeves.

The song concluded, and before Jongin could move or speak, the figure addressed him without turning around.

“Before you ask, let me hazard a guess on what might your question be: why am I playing _Lover’s Cry_ again.” Then, shifting to a more playful tone: “Did I get it right?”

Shocked, suspicious, Jongin hurried over to check this figure’s identity, reaching out for their shoulder.

The dream dissolved, and the bedroom ceiling came into Jongin’s line of vision.

“_Lover’s Cry_.”

Jongin had never heard of the song title before. Jongin had never spoken the song title before. Yet the syllables rolled off his tongue so naturally when he tested it aloud, in a way that told him this might not have been the first time at all. Each reiteration plucked at unlabeled emotions. He was mystified by his own response to these two simple words. If this wasn’t the first time he said or heard of _Lover’s Cry_, how could he not recall it happening in his long life?

This was the first time he dreamed of someone else, however. Jongin lamented he couldn’t see the person’s face, but the voice was undoubtedly male. A friend? The stranger sounded far too gentle and affectionate for it to be confined within platonic boundaries. A lover? Jongin scoffed at the idea; the absurdity. Though he bedded any willing body he could feed off from, one-night stands were more practical and manageable. He needn’t worry about responding to showered devotion, or keeping up with someone’s life when he was only after their lust; the taste of other sins.

And why limit himself to the attention of one when he could attract so many just by walking down the streets and through Privé’s doors, as he did now? Jongin wouldn’t call himself a narcissist, but he wasn’t blind to the stares directed his way; how they swept over his figure and lingered like a heated touch. He wasn’t deaf to their salacious thoughts, or insensitive to their hidden desires he coaxed out from desperately-whispered confessions between the sheets. He cared more for the lust and sexual energy he reaped from these situations, delightfully delicious and energizing.

Tonight was no different. Luring men and women to the dance floor as he entertained them on stage; lived out their fantasies as the epitome of unattainable perfection. He danced, and they cheered. He beckoned, and they heeded. He hungered, and they gave. Compared to other demons that preyed on humans with or without their consent, sexual energy tasted better to Jongin when his one-night stands were willing, conscious parties. Some demons liked coercion, but he didn’t thrive off fear; loathed its acrid taste, save for the times it came from the victims he fed to the Tree of Discord.

Jongin didn’t need to feed, having not used his powers for days, but one man in the crowd was too desirable to resist. It continued with flirting and ended in the man’s apartment, pleasuring him beyond human comprehension. Although the man was pleasing to Jongin’s eyes, the sexual energy tasted subpar. His stamina left much to be desired, too, but Jongin chalked it up to mere human shortcoming of failing to keep up with demon endurance.

After a quick shower, Jongin put his clothes back on when he sensed Subpar Man’s gaze following him around the room; the hesitation, coming off strongly in waves. He turned around; raised an eyebrow in question. Subpar Man flinched but stayed quiet and staring. It felt like an hour had passed waiting for Subpar Man to talk, and when he did—

“Do you want to stay the night?”

—Jongin pressed his lips together to tamp down a frown.

Cuddlers weren’t his type. Clingy lays? Not his type, either.

“I assumed you would have a better understanding of what one-night stands are by not asking questions like that.”

“I perfectly understand what a one-night stand is. I don’t normally let them stay after fucking, but if you’ve been living under a rock, news of unsolved disappearances at Yeouido Park have been circulating for weeks now. In case you were too horny to notice earlier, my place is close to Yeouido Park. The culprit hasn’t been caught yet, and the disappearances always happen at night. But if you want to land yourself on the early morning news tomorrow”—he pointed to the door of his apartment—“be my guest.”

Jongin ignored the Subpar Man’s rudeness and focused on the most interesting thing from his statements. “I’ve been too busy to keep up with the news. Tell me more.” He schooled his face into as guileless an expression he could manage for complete effect.

Subpar Man shot him an incredulous look. He pulled himself up to sit in bed, sheets slipping down the floor. “The police can’t find any common links among the victims, but they’ve always been incompetent like that. Netizens are better with their observations. Conspiracy theories have been cropping up nonstop. The disappearances first happened at the south side of Yeouido Park. It’s now happening at the west side. A high school girl who went missing recently was reportedly last seen there. The surveillance cameras haven’t caught anything, as usual. There was blood on the pavement but no body found. Don’t you find that hard to believe? Is the criminal invisible or some shit? If you ask me, the police are using this issue to distract the public from exposing a politician’s dirt. Useless fuckers.”

Subpar Man opened a window and started smoking a cigarette in the time Jongin stayed quiet and contemplative. Jongin assumed the problem was solved after he and Baekhyun slayed those odd-looking demons. He wasn’t aware it now persisted in a different place. The entire time he heard humans talking about the issue, he thought it was about the past disappearances.

It meant there were more of those demons in hiding, waiting to prey on hapless humans. 

It meant those demons were multiplying and wouldn’t stop unless Jongin eradicated their origins.

Which led him to the west side of Yeouido Park, examining every tree he came across with a meticulous eye. Subpar Man had given him a weird look when Jongin asked if any camellias were planted in the area; said no, none that he knew of. Giggly One-night Stand from weeks past claimed to have smelled camellias in the south side, even if Jongin’s search proved the opposite. Giggly One-night Stand would have no reason to lie if they were able to accurately identify camellias from scent alone.

Jongin stopped walking, the mentioned scent reaching his nose—very faint, something no normal human could’ve smelled given the limited scope of their noses; the presence of other odors in the air. He followed the scent before it completely faded; arrived at the bicycle lanes. Together with the tree-lined sidewalks, both were expectedly deserted, humans probably avoiding place since it was the current hotbed for the continued disappearances.

The trees were bare of camellias, but its unmistakable fragrance continued lingering in the air. The scent had to come from somewhere, and he was determined to discover the truth.

Jongin walked down the length of the lane, using his nose as a compass. The scent became more prominent as he headed south; unbearable, in the way Jongin’s nostrils felt assaulted by its strength. Nauseating, to the point it was clouding his mind. Jongin shook his head a little; quickened his pace.

He faltered slightly in his steps at the appearance of a new presence. Footsteps on the pavement coming from the opposite end; the silhouette not giving away their identity. The new presence smelled human. The new presence _was_ human, Jongin found out, when the figure stepped into the light of the lampposts and spotted their iridescent aura.

The figure was Sehun.

Sehun, who didn’t seem to sense Jongin stood a good distance away from him, inspecting the trees he walked past, brows furrowing and frown deepening with every step. Sehun, who touched every trunk, looked up, as if in search of something.

Jongin hid himself behind the closest tree, watching Sehun’s every movement, fascinated but confused. Sehun should’ve heard the news by now unless he was more outdated than him. If not, Sehun was courting danger being out and about here—alone, no less.

And then Sehun stood in front of the tallest tree in the lane. He laid a palm on the trunk and didn’t move for a few beats that Jongin thought he might’ve fallen asleep standing with his eyes open.

“This tree is unwell.”

Jongin frowned, curiosity piqued. What in the Three Realms was this foolish human talking about?

“Let me heal you.”

White pinpoints of light burst from beneath Sehun’s palm, quickly spreading through the tree. The tree glowed, like a shining beacon in a dark night, overpowering the brightness of the artificial lights coming from the lampposts.

Jongin shielded his eyes but sneaked peeks between the gaps of his fingers. What was going on? Who was Sehun, and why did he possess such powers for a mere human?

He felt the arrival of a new presence, this time _not_ human.

Something sinister was forming on the tree right next to the one Sehun was touching. An orb of red light, a burst of fragrance. Sehun immediately tore his hand away from the tree trunk and jumped back. The white glow disappeared. Jongin straightened up immediately at the first whiff of a scent he would easily recognize anywhere.

Watched in a frozen state of shock as the orb’s light receded, and a ruby-red camellia flower in full bloom appeared on the juncture of two branches. The fragrance permeated the night air, stronger than before, warning of imminent danger. From its center dripped a light pink substance opaque and viscous that grew larger in size on its descent to the ground; irregularly shaped, as if storing something within, similar to what a womb might look like. It split open. A spine-chilling, inhuman screech shattering the silence of the night as it crawled out from its birthplace.

Fangs, claws, the hollow eyes, the taut red skin—the very same demon Jongin fought off with Baekhyun.

The demon hissed, forked tongue slipping past rows and rows of sharp fangs. It sniffed at the air; zeroed in on Sehun, who was staring at the demon with a poker face. Sehun shockingly hadn’t ran away yet; no spikes of fear from him, either. Jongin had no time to explore these oddities when the demon wasted no time lunging at Sehun, claws gleaming and hungry for human flesh.

Sehun raised his arm and released an energy blast at the demon.

The demon flew through the air and crashed into a lamppost several paces away, screams of pain dying down quick as it disintegrated.

Jongin almost ruined his cover when he saw the slight tremble of Sehun’s form before he fell to a kneel. Sweat formed and dripped down the side of Sehun’s alarmingly ashen face. Sehun looked to be genuinely suffering as his chest heaved with exertion. Jongin’s mind screamed at him to do something to help. Demons were infamously known for their lack of generosity if not without an equal exchange, but the longer Jongin stayed hidden and watching, an unknown feeling pricked him behind his ribs. Something he couldn’t name, and baffled him why it existed in the first place.

“Sehun!”

A man came running from the opposite bicycle lane. Human, Jongin sensed, and when his face came into view, he remembered him as the drunk friend in the alley from that night. He looked sober right now as he rushed to Sehun’s side.

“The fuck are you doing here? Haven’t you heard the news? The murders have been happening here now—are you asking to be killed?” the friend questioned in disbelief.

Sehun managed a chuckle, even in his current state. He wiped away the sweat on his forehead with the back of one hand. “I was bored at home, so I took a walk. I ended up here. I didn’t know about the murders. Why are you here? Aren’t you scared you might be next?” It sounded like a joke, but a seriousness underlined the words.

“I was hanging out with other friends. No, it’s not the ‘bad bunch,’ as you like calling them. They dropped me off here as consequence to losing a bet. What was it? To prove there was no monster lurking here doing the crimes, like some dumb netizen conspiracy theories are brewing.” The friend shook his head. “Man, if you wanted to be somewhere, you should’ve told me. I told you already, remember? Call me if you want to hang out.”

“I didn’t want to bother you, Hyunbin. And it’s fine. Nothing bad happened.”

“_Nothing bad?_” Hyunbin echoed, giving Sehun a once-over. “You look fresh off a marathon with how exhausted you look. And you can’t even stand running on your good days. C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Hyunbin assisted Sehun in standing up. A kind gesture expected from a friend, though Jongin stared far too long at the way Hyunbin circled an arm around the narrow of Sehun’s waist. A new, unlabeled emotion stung Jongin as he watched Hyunbin push back Sehun’s sweaty fringe away from his forehead, or how unnecessarily close they stood, even in the name of helping a friend.

“Wait.” Sehun sounded breathless by the time he was on his feet, in spite of Hyunbin’s assistance. At Hyunbin’s questioning look, Sehun turned his head every which way and said, “I don’t think we’re alone right now.”

No other humans were within range. Jongin edged himself closer behind the tree, avoiding to be seen.

Two stray cats burst out from the bushes and chased each other down the road.

Hyunbin breathed out a sigh. “Was that what you heard? The cats? Maybe you’re more tired than you let on. Really, what made you even think to come here at a time like this when you knew very well this is a murder site? What if you were accused of being the murderer?”

Hyunbin’s lecturing faded together with their retreating figures. Jongin wanted to follow them, intrigued more than ever about Sehun; his entire existence. His intrigue doubled when he inspected the tree Sehun stood right in front of moments ago. Jongin touched the tree but instantly took back his hand like he’d been scalded. His exposure to it was minimal, but Jongin positively identified the traces of divine energy left behind.

Sehun’s previous mention of healing made total sense, now. It explained why the tree felt clean and pure, and why Jongin couldn’t touch its trunk for more than a second. Sehun, entirely human with his iridescent aura, could not possibly possess divine energy. The gods might favor humans over demons any day and bestow them with gifts, but most were known for their lack of magnanimity.

The pervasive scent of camellias brought Jongin back from the world of his unanswered questions.

Stared wide-eyed at the unnatural growth of camellia flowers on every branch of every tree along the lane.

One by one, they bloomed red and beautiful; one by one, they gave birth to the demonic anomalies. They crawled out of the light pink placentas, hissing and snapping their jaws. Jongin whistled, commanding their attention. The demons tittered in glee, grating to Jongin’s ears, probably anticipating him as their meal. They swarmed him, moving like one entity. Jongin aimed and released a giant blast of fire. Scarlet flames annihilated the red mass, leaving no chance to escape; no scream to pierce the air.

The mysterious disappearances, the unexplained murders, the lack of bodies—there was never a human culprit. It was these demons and their unabated hunger for human flesh and blood.

Once splendid and vibrant, the camellias now withered in succession. Jongin burned the flowers as a precaution, worried they might give birth again. The air gradually cleared, and Jongin felt like he could breathe again. The gulps of polluted air wasn’t better, but Jongin would take it, although the unease haunting him since his first whiff of the camellia hadn’t diminished.

He’d seen camellia flowers in the Human Realm countless times in his years of living here. The camellias grown here and the camellias the Tree of Discord bore carried an indistinguishable scent. Jongin was bound to brush it off as nothing but coincidence. Except he didn’t believe in that, and he counted the petals of the last withered flower to be sure.

Ten petals.

Human Realm camellias only had five to nine petals.

The Tree of Discord’s camellias _always_ had ten.

Sehun was alone when he woke up at six the next morning.

Unsurprising, even if a tiny part of him wished Hyunbin stayed until he woke. The convenience store meal sitting on the low table and the note stuck on the fridge were the evidences of Hyunbin’s presence. In his messy handwriting, Hyunbin wrote to contact him if he was feeling better. Sehun heated the takeout and sat in front of the television. He wished the beef was less dry while watching news of another disappearance happening at the west side of Yeouido Park was aired; the victim this time, a newlywed couple.

Appetite gone, Sehun stored away his half-eaten food and thought back to last night’s events. He carried his gayageum with him to the courtyard, sat down and played. Fatigue clutched him, but the songs he played restored his strength little by little. Always the expected consequence for using his powers.

Before he first heard of the news about the mysterious disappearances at the south side of Yeouido Park, Sehun had already sensed a menacing aura skulking about the area during his daily walks. At first, he had pinned it to tiredness; mind conjuring fantastical imaginations. He’d been proven wrong when the sinister presence grew and grew, majority of humans spending a good time at the park unsuspecting they were being watched; preyed on. When the first disappearance had been reported, Sehun had gone to check immediately. Vestiges of infernal energy had been lingering at the murder site, no trace of the monster responsible except for a vague floral scent.

Sehun had always regretted not being at the scene whenever the monsters struck. He had been left guessing what kind of fiendish creatures would use flowery scents to fool anyone into thinking they wouldn’t cause harm.

He’d been sorely mistaken when he witnessed, for the first time, how these monsters were born: on healthy tree branches bloomed camellias so stunning, color red as blood. The camellias had been producing the demons, though they only appeared at night; withered away after serving their purpose. That had been the night a man in his forties was mauled to death and eaten by demons, spilled blood left to dry on the pavement and discovered by the police the next morning.

Sehun had witnessed everything from start to end, yet he couldn’t stop it from happening after having used up all his divine energy into purifying two infected trees an hour prior.

He’d been plagued by nightmares for days after that.

The heavy camellia scent had begun perfuming the trees since. Although humans could smell it in the morning, they had no way to know it was a sign of infection. The moment he’d gained back his strength and divine energy, Sehun set out to purify every infected tree in the south side of Yeouido Park.

He’d been bedridden for three days after that.

Having made it his personal mission to seek out and heal infected trees, Sehun couldn’t afford losing strength and powers for too long. So he used his divine energy sparingly, even if it meant a longer time to heal the trees. A little at a time proved effective, too, in the way the camellias might still bloom but wilted before it could produce a demon. Sehun stuck to this method; in time, he had purified the entire tree population at the south side. No more scent of camellias in the morning on his walks.

When news of a high school girl disappeared at the west side broke out, Sehun set out to investigate, already knowing what he might find. The amount of infernal energy invading the trees at the bicycle lane took him aback, more so than the wave of dizziness that struck him from being exposed to it. He chose to heal the tree with the highest concentration of infernal energy. It shocked him to know he could produce an energy blast when a demon came for him, but the weakening of his body after indicated he’d used the last of it. Any more, and direr consequences would be had.

Sehun stopped mid-play, sighing hotly. If only he wasn’t so weak, he would’ve purified all the trees along the bicycle lane by now; but his limited strength and even more limited abilities frustrated him. More frustrating was his frail constitution and recuperation taking so long before he was fully back on his feet.

He stared at the bracelet around his wrist, sunlight bouncing off the silver charm. He stroked the charm, calmed at once, but also impatient; tempted. Kyungsoo’s warning from his early childhood surfaced. Even in his great curiosity and streaks of mischief, he didn’t want to break his promise to Kyungsoo. Upsetting him was the last thing he wanted to do.

Sehun’s mind strayed back to last night’s events; the unknown presence he’d sensed lurking in the shadows. It shared a similar energy to the infected trees, but far tamer compared to the demon that attacked him. His best guess was another demon, though he wondered why it didn’t reveal itself. Still, he shouldn’t stay complacent. He should take double precaution when venturing out. Using up his divine energy dulled his powers; in turn, a failure to sense otherworldly presences. Restoration of lost energy would take two entire days, at most. Sehun used no special methods; just the familiar flow of pure energy in his veins was telling enough.

Vivi trotted up to him from inside the house and plopped down by his knee. Vivi leaned his head against Sehun’s knee. Sehun stroked Vivi’s head and asked if he was hungry but fed him, anyway. He texted Hyunbin, thanking him for the food, then prepared for work. His morning might’ve started out a little bad with the weakness in his limbs and the dizziness when he roused, but he gradually felt better in time to conduct his first gayageum class at the traditional music center.

Surrounding himself with smiling, cheerful people eager to learn today’s piece definitely improved Sehun’s mood. Listening to an ensemble of gayageums playing together in perfect harmony helped Sehun forget about his exhaustion for two hours. Lunching and chatting with co-teachers eased Sehun’s loneliness and blurred out memories of his meals for one, inspiring him to continue hoping that one day, he could eat together with Kyungsoo as many times as he wanted in the future.

Before his first afternoon class, Sehun checked his phone; sighed at Hyunbin leaving him on read. Typical Hyunbin to tell him to do one thing but not reciprocate. He had a few guesses of where Hyunbin might be right now; what he could be doing. Most of them involved alcohol, cigarettes, and warm bodies introduced by unsavory company Hyunbin met in college. At times, forbidden substances were thrown in the mix. One time he caught Hyunbin ingesting a transparent, diamond-shaped tablet. When confronted, Hyunbin denied having taken anything, even if Sehun could see its effects from the red-rimmed eyes to the rapid-fire babbling.

Sehun worried for Hyunbin and his nihilistic tendencies, yet all warnings fell on deaf ears. The decent bunch among Hyunbin’s friends had all but abandoned him at this point, either by conscious choice or a falling out after huge fights. They had warned Sehun to save himself before Hyunbin could rope him into bigger, more dangerous things; before it was too late. Exasperated, at times genuinely enraged by his antics, Sehun couldn’t bring himself to turn his back on a childhood friend; continued holding on to the good faith that Hyunbin would change his ways.

He sent Hyunbin another text to remind him not to get in trouble and headed inside the classroom. His phone remained quiet the entire day.

On the way home two days later, Sehun alighted on a different subway station to check the west side of Yeouido Park. Happiness filled him as he walked along the bicycle lane and sensed no infernal energy from the trees; smelled no camellias. But it puzzled him, too. He remembered clearly he had only healed one tree; now, not a single trace of it could be detected. Sehun guessed someone might have done the job. It couldn’t be Kyungsoo—he wasn’t capable of purification.

Sehun wanted to ensure no camellias would grow or regrow. That night, back in top form and divine energy replenished, he set out for the opposite side of the bicycle lane and perused the trees; sensed no infernal energy. This part of Yeouido Park was barren and submerged in silence at this time of night. Sehun couldn’t blame people fearing for their lives and avoiding the place. It certainly aided in doing his task better.

For three straight nights, Sehun returned for continued inspection. For three straight nights, no disappearances were reported on the news. On the fourth night, after checking the last tree and sensing no signs of infernal energy, Sehun rewarded himself with a can of cold beer he purchased from the convenience store. The serenity of the night and the dark sky pinpricked with stars compelled him to sit on the grass overlooking the river. He could have done this at home with Vivi—safer, too—but he didn’t feel like returning so soon.

Good thing he brought his gayageum with him. Another reason he sat out here in the open. Sehun carried his gayageum around with him in the previous nights, as well, though he played in gazebos and on benches. Tonight, he was determined to play here.

He tuned the instrument; played a song about seasons. The song he first played when he touched the gayageum, one that spoke of spring and the blooming of flowers; the warmth of summer and the slow passage of time; the coolness of autumn and its fleeting visit; the chill of winter and the dancing of snowflakes. Each stanza painted vivid images in his mind as he immersed himself in the melody. He liked songs celebrating all life forms; ballads about heroic deeds and friendship and loyalty. Kyungsoo mentioned he could play songs that made meadows bloom, breathe life to dying forests, calm oceans as they boiled over, soothed the trembling earth in its anger.

And Sehun wished he was as wonderful as Kyungsoo described him to be; wished he could witness for himself the miracles he supposedly could pull. On days he had no divine energy, playing songs lifted his dampened spirits and soothed the aching of his muscles. At full strength, he could make flowers bloom—like now, as the first burst of fragrance tickled his nose, multiplying in number as he approached the song’s crescendo. The tiny blossoms added splotches of color on the mostly green grass.

Sehun wondered if the unknown presence behind him liked flowers, too.

He faced two choices on resolving this. He picked the more practical one by not engaging in a fight. He finished playing this song, letting the last of its notes float away with the breeze. The unknown presence didn’t move any closer; didn’t leave. Surrounded by flowers of variegating colors and sizes, Sehun finally caved to his delayed urge, fingers plucking the silk strings to the tune of _Lover’s Cry_.

More flowers sprouted. Sehun closed his eyes, letting himself be swept away. The sweet but mournful song never failed to wrap around his heart and squeeze tight. Its tragic story crossed his mind. He wondered if the God of Love continued yearning for his human lover who would never return; if he sometimes crossed over here trying to find glimpses of them from the thousands of faces he walked past.

Kyungsoo would tease him for being a die-hard romantic if he knew of his thoughts. Sehun would proudly reason he was one for happy endings.

The unknown presence was approaching.

The unknown presence screamed demon—the very same one he had felt on the day he was attacked; the very same one he suspected had been following him for three days on his healing tree mission. The hairs on his nape stood on end as the demon crept closer. It puzzled him why this demon didn’t attack yet and chose to watch him from afar. Demons were prone to violence. This one seemed to be more demon in aura and being, but not as barbaric in purpose.

Sehun continued playing, pretending he wasn’t aware of the demon’s presence; prepared a portion of his powers to erect a protective barrier around him just in case. Closer and closer the demon came, barely the sound of footsteps on the grass. The song reached its end, the last few notes disappearing into the night, like a sigh carried away by a breeze.

Jongin was standing in front of him when Sehun opened his eyes.

Recovering from his surprise, Sehun flashed a smile. His smile seemed to confuse Jongin, reflecting in his expression. Sehun should be wary, if the alarming amount of infernal energy coming from Jongin wasn’t a legit warning, but he oddly felt not an ounce of nervousness.

Sehun widened his smile on purpose and said the first thing on his mind. “So you’ve finally decided to show yourself after spying on me for four nights?”

Jongin looked taken aback. “I wasn’t spying on you.” He frowned.

“You can’t tell me you just happened to be passing by for four nights in a row at around the same hours? That’s some dedication you have there.”

“I saidI wasn’t spying on you.”

“Fine. We can pretend I believe you—no need to get defensive.” Sehun couldn’t help an impish grin; amped up his playfulness. “So what were you doing not-spying on me? Checking up on me? Isn’t that a more decently-dressed term for spying?”

Jongin shot him an annoyed look. “You are impossible.”

Sehun responded with a shrug. He adjusted to a more comfortable sitting position while moving the gayageum with careful hands. “If you’re worried about me disappearing, that’s really nice of you; but there haven’t been any disappearances in the last three days. It’s been something reported all over the news if you were wondering how I knew.” He looked up at Jongin, so many emotions flitting across his face. He gestured to the space beside him. “Maybe you’d like to join me here and sit? I’m not going to hurt you, as long as you promise not to pull any tricks on me.”

Jongin arched an eyebrow. “And what sort of tricks do you think I will do to you? I am no prankster, and neither am I a magician.”

Sehun chose not to comment further on that and patted the space again. “Sit. It’s tiring for my neck to look up every time I talk.”

In all honesty, Sehun didn’t think Jongin would listen. The mere fact Jongin could end him right there if he wished should’ve made him leave and not look back until he reached the safety of his home, yet he chose to turn a blind eye in favor of company. Hyunbin kept him company if he was lucky enough to have his texts and calls answered, which wasn’t always. Kyungsoo couldn’t come visit him as he pleased, so it was nice being with someone different, even if he had the potential to kill him.

So Jongin huffing out an annoyed breath _but_ plopping down on the grass stunned Sehun speechless. But not for long.

“You come here a lot? Or do you just come here to spy on wayward humans like me?” Sehun wagged a finger at an unimpressed Jongin and clucked his tongue. “Don’t look at me like that, Jongin. I’m willing to forget you were spying on me as long as you share why you’re here. Don’t worry, I won’t judge.”

“You have quite the strange way of showing it.”

“Do you come here to listen to me play?” Sehun continued, ignoring Jongin’s comment on purpose. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to be especially chatty. Perhaps a tiny, secret fear of offending a powerful demon. He wasn’t aware yet what Jongin was fully capable of, and he wasn’t too keen on finding out. Better keep him entertained than enraged. “I don’t think I can believe you if you told me you were here for an evening stroll. Last I checked, strolling involved movement, not hiding—”

“I do.” Jongin’s answer shocked Sehun, like the reply was being forced out of his mouth. “You’re right. I was here three nights ago. For a walk. Originally. And then I heard a song. I thought someone out there must have gone mad to be gallivanting and beckoning demons to them. But it turned out to be you.”

Sehun chuckled. “So how do you like my playing? Do you think I’m good?”

“I can’t say. I don’t have anyone to compare your playing to.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment and improve my skills further.”

Jongin stared at him, expression indecipherable, as if trying to guess what went on in his head. Or detangle his thought process. “Are you not going to ask me why I’m really here?”

“Hmm? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sehun pulled his most innocent face, the one reserved for weaseling his way out of a scolding. It worked on Kyungsoo. He hoped it could work on a demon, too.

“You can’t be _that_ oblivious,” Jongin said, a slight furrow on the space between his brows. “I know you don’t believe my presence here was just a coincidence. Or that I was ‘spying’ on you.”

Silence between them, loaded with many unasked questions Sehun heard loud and clear. The faint but quaint scent of flowers helped Sehun calm down; gave him a boost of confidence to not chicken out, put absolute faith in the part of himself that always chose to see the best in others—human or demon.

“You’re right. I think we came here for the same purpose,” Sehun conceded, not backing down or looking away from Jongin’s gaze. He smiled a little, even in the face of probable danger. “We came here to make sure no other humans would be eaten, and no other demons would be born. I find it strange, to be honest. Why would a demon be on the prowl for other demons?”

Jongin’s eyes widened a fraction, and then narrowed. “So, you do know.” He didn’t pose it as a question, and he didn’t sound like he was questioning how Sehun reached the conclusion. Jongin must’ve known Sehun knew he wasn’t human. Never was.

Still, Sehun pushed aside his fear in favor of courage. He carried on like he wasn’t affected, smile in place. “And what if I do?”

“Aren’t you scared of what I could do? The horrors I could unleash?” Jongin studied him with a cool gaze. 

“If I was scared of you, do you think I would still be here talking to you? No way. I’m here because I don’t believe someone with impure intentions can appreciate music meant to enliven and celebrate life. And if you’re serious about terrorizing me, would you have waited four nights to take action? No offense, but another demon would’ve taken the chance straight from the first night.”

Jongin said nothing for a long moment. “For someone _human_”—(Sehun bristled at the way he enunciated the word)—“you are quite daring. The most daring I’ve met. You know I’m a demon, but I haven’t the faintest of what you truly are or why you possess powers. Yet you continue feigning innocence on the matter.”

Sehun snorted. “Have you not heard of witches or warlocks in your long, immortal life? I’m pretty sure witches and warlocks and demons are pretty tight. Not that I’m saying I deal with demons. Good witches and warlocks exist, too.”

“Right,” Jongin drawled, the deadpan of his tone implying he wasn’t buying Sehun’s bullshit.

A breeze floated past them, carrying the airy fragrance of the tiny flowers. Suddenly, Jongin was leaning forward, a hand reaching out. Sehun sat very still, pulse drumming in his ears, eyes following Jongin’s hand. He wasn’t sure what would happen; what Jongin was planning. He certainly didn’t foresee the lightest brush of fingers through his hair, and then Jongin was taking his hand back holding a grass blade. Panic surged and died at Jongin’s unpredicted move, Sehun’s quieted pulse racing.

Jongin twirled the grass blade between his fingers, amused gaze never straying from Sehun’s face. “One thing I’ve ascertained from this talk is that you are full of sass. Mouthy brats aren’t attractive to me, but I must say you are very enthralling.”

A stronger breeze fluttered, but Sehun’s cheeks stayed warm. It lasted long enough until Jongin stood to his feet, gaze sweeping across the scenery before it slid back to him.

“I do not know what you are hiding. I do not know why you insist on hiding it, but two can play this game. Since I have no reason to stay here any longer, I will take my leave.”

“Wait!”

Jongin turned around. Sehun set his gayageum aside to stand and reduce the space between them.

“I told myself the next time I saw you, I would befriend you.”

Jongin arched both eyebrows but didn’t move. “I do not think anyone with sound minds would want to be friends with a demon—unless you are interested in forming a contract, but I do not belong to that category.”

Sehun blinked. “There are categories to your kind?”

Jongin’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit in suspicion. “If you are a warlock, you should know this basic bit of information.”

“Well, I don’t know everything yet. I’m still learning. Don’t judge,” Sehun said, raising his defensiveness, if only to make his act more convincing. “Anyway, I want to be friends with you. When’s the next time I can see you again?”

Jongin’s sharp, perusing gaze worried Sehun he might have pushed harder than necessary; but there was no turning back. He waited for an answer, hoping it would be one he wanted to hear.

“I would advise you to be careful of who you are befriending. But if you are persistent, I will not stop you.” Jongin took out something from the pocket of his jeans. In a blink, and a whoosh, Sehun caught it between his fingers. A black calling card with the word “Privé” written across it in embossed golden script.

“Come by next Wednesday night—if you haven’t changed your mind, that is.”

Sehun did not stop Jongin from walking away and disappearing into the night. He turned the card in his hands, read the text until the words were ingrained in his mind; behind closed eyes. He would do his research on the hierarchy of demons once he reached home. For now, the phantom touch of Jongin’s fingers in his hair lingered, the gesture uncharacteristically innocent and gentle for a demon bent on warding him off.

Kyungsoo rose from the wooden tub, water brimming over the edge. Steam wafted above the tub, scented with traces of mint and earth. His standard fare of bathwater was hot and plain to soothe his aching muscles, but today, he used a bottle of Sehun’s homemade bath oil. Sehun had given it to him last visit, enthusiasm clear on his face as he shared his newfound hobby; advised him to use it on his most weary days.

The bath definitely refreshed Kyungsoo, a clean, fresh scent now on his skin. His mind cleared, and his body was not as sore anymore. Bouts of drowsiness came and went, but Kyungsoo could only indulge in sleep after things had calmed. Gods might not require as much sleep as humans—sometimes not even sleeping at all—but Kyungsoo wouldn’t turn down a powerful sleeping draught if it mean a recharge without the assault of nightmares from the horrors he’d seen in the past nights.

Dressed in a cleaner set of pearl blue and white hanbok, Kyungsoo took his sword and left his estate. Outside, snow fell lightly from the sky, blanketing everything it touched in sparkling silvery white. Some of it gathered on his hat and shoulders as he walked to his destination. Though the cold did not bother him, Kyungsoo grew tired of the snowy landscape, longing for more colorful sceneries and warm sunlight. Two things the Holy Realm hadn’t seen in an entire century. Two things he could only experience now when crossing over to the Human Realm. 

The varied structures and bare trees in his surroundings grew lesser in number the closer Kyungsoo reached. The winding concrete path led him to a temple gate; passing through, a courtyard thrice the size of his own. His boots echoed against the pavement crossing the courtyard and climbing the stone steps. At the top, a grand temple loomed before him with stacked roofs curved and ornate. Two guards were always stationed outside the main entryway, stance alert and faces blank, gazes straight ahead. At Kyungsoo’s appearance, they broke out of character and kneeled before him, head lowered in subservience. The greatest sign of respect to their commander.

“Rise.” Kyungsoo’s tone was soft but carried authority. The guards readily complied, heads remaining bowed. “Has the God of Music left the temple?”

“The God of Music has not set foot outside since your last visit, my liege,” the guard to his right answered.

Kyungsoo expected the answer. It didn’t mean he couldn’t frown. His last visit was seven days ago.

“I would like an audience with the God of Music, if he is not too busy with his current task.”

The temple doors were pulled open from the inside, revealing a female figure in a lavender hanbok, braided hair secured with a ribbon cloth in a similar color. One of the God of Music’s muses who usually assisted during musical performances. She bowed in respect, which Kyungsoo returned.

“Lord Jongdae has been waiting for you, Lord Kyungsoo. I have been sent to escort you inside should you arrive. Please follow me.”

Kyungsoo was led down a single straight corridor flanked by impressive pillars that glimmered like gold. A wall and an arched alcove awaited them at the end, intricate patterns painted onto the frame. The muse stepped aside, folded hands resting on her middle, head dipped as she waited for his next move.

Kyungsoo took out a small jade tablet he wore around his neck. He inserted the tablet in the empty slot carved beside the frame. The tablet gleamed a softer shade of green; emerging from it were random curves and lines shaping themselves to form a tree. Ancient glyphs lit up one by one in clockwise order on the solid wall until a needle-thin gap ran right down the middle, splitting it open and granting access to proceed.

The strum of the gayageum greeted Kyungsoo upon entry. The muse excused herself and hurried over to her spot, waiting a few beats before joining in on the playing. The song sounded full with two instruments playing together. Kyungsoo recognized the song as one of wishing fast recuperation. Ironically fitting in this situation.

In the middle of this expansive space stood a majestic cherry blossom tree, petals chasing each other on their descent. Pink colored the ground from the gathered piles of petals, soft beneath Kyungsoo’s boots and cushioned his steps as he walked further inside. Kyungsoo took a deep inhale, saddened by the tree’s dwindling scent; the elliptical wounds that had formed on the trunk accumulated over the years, some parts with the bark peeled off, the pulp within soft and rotting.

Aside from the muse, seated to the side was a man in an amethyst hanbok, gayageum on his lap, playing with an energy befit of hyperactive human children. At the song’s crescendo, a chain of orange lights spiraled around the tree from the ground upward, ceaseless and medium-paced. Kyungsoo sensed a combination of healing and divine energy integrated with the song; the orange lights. This would grant temporary relief for the tree’s wounds, if not sustain it for a certain period of time.

The man in the amethyst hanbok finally took notice of Kyungsoo and grinned. He said something to the muse, then gently set aside his gayageum to approach him.

“I’ve been expecting you, Kyungsoo. How have you been since we last saw each other?”

“Likewise, Jongdae. Your music is splendid, as always. As soothing and beautiful as it is, however, I fear that I have seen better days.” Kyungsoo saw no reason to lie to an old friend; the closest one he had in the Holy Realm. His mood dampened upon remembering the horrific events he’d gone through in the recent days. “There have been far too many demons roaming around the Human Realm.”

“Ah.” Jongdae’s expression turned sympathetic. “Is that why you’ve been away for long periods of time lately? Has the problem not been resolved?”

“We are trying our best. I have no problems dealing with the demons by myself. The soldiers are working hard, too. Yet there will come a time when their bodies will be too weary or broken to move from injuries. The probability of being outnumbered in the future is not impossible. I have lost some soldiers in this mission. I wish to avoid adding more to the body count. We require assistance, but the other gods are not too willing in lending a hand.”

Kyungsoo tasted the bitterness of his words but didn’t take it back. He had raised the issue to the gods on a recent assembly, but not a single of his concerns were taken with the seriousness he expected. Some had the audacity to take personal offense as if he asked them to join him on patrol and engage in combat with the demons. Kyungsoo had stormed away from the assembly glowering at everyone and carrying twice the amount of frustration with the gods’ unwillingness to help and their complacency about the demon problem.

Jongdae squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. He offered a comforting smile that emphasized the curl of his upper lip. “You have my full support in everything you do, Kyungsoo. Just know that, and believe in it.”

“I know. Thank you, Jongdae,” Kyungoo said, honest with his gratitude.

“Now, now, you sound far too grim about the situation. Has something else happened? A recent development that’s aged you two times more since the last time we talked?”

“The facts have not changed since last time,” Kyungsoo said. “Demons have started appearing in random places in the Human Realm. The demons subsist on human flesh and blood. They can be executed by beheading or driving a sword through the heart. The humans have been passing off these disappearances as strange but unresolved. A handful of the population believes it to be murder. Both are not far from the truth. There is something I do not understand, and I have tried and failed to make sense of it numerous times.”

“Go on.”

“Every single location where these murders have taken place… there are always trees nearby. _Always_.” Kyungsoo lowered his voice so his words would only be heard by Jongdae. “And on those trees, I discovered something peculiar. An abnormal growth of camellias.”

The slow rise of Jongdae’s eyebrows and the incredulous look crossing his face sent a jolt of fear down Kyungsoo’s spine. His insides churned, apprehensive the suspicions he’d long entertained might end up coming true. Become a reality he didn’t want. Never wanted, regardless of permutation.

“Kyungsoo.” It felt like forever before Jongdae spoke again. “To my knowledge, camellias are about as normal a sight as cherry blossoms in the Human Realm. They also grow on trees over there.”

“Camellias of the Human Realm have five to nine petals only. The camellias I saw have ten. I have done comparisons. I witnessed for myself how the camellias gave birth to the bloodthirsty demons I have been disposing since the first sighting. One demon is born to each camellia. The flowers die afterward.” Kyungsoo watched Jongdae’s face morph from surprised to appalled. “You and I both know that it’s useless coming up with other explanations for this phenomenon. We will just be lying to ourselves. You and I both know the camellias with ten petals can only come from one place.”

“Supposing that is true, what do you intend to do, Kyungsoo? Surely you do not plan to instigate war against the entire Demon Realm? We have no proof it is their doing, and barging into their territory demanding answers is a reckless move, not to mention worsens already hostile ties,” Jongdae reasoned.

“Would you rather I wait for the entire human population to be ravaged and taken over?” Kyungsoo fired back, impatience and the stress of dealing with this situation alone getting to him. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend not a single demon is unaware of what the Tree of Discord is doing.”

Jongdae was not fazed by his outburst; smiled, even amid a distressing conversation. “Come, Kyungsoo, calm down. Think with me. Let’s say your claims are true. Let’s say the demonic camellias are coming from the Tree of Discord. But how could they find their way in the Human Realm? I do not think the Tree of Discord’s Guardian would allow occurrences like this to happen without their knowledge, except if he is transferring the camellias on purpose?”

“That fool of a Guardian better not be causing this,” Kyungsoo spat out right away, the words tasting acrid on his tongue. “I will personally hunt him down and behead him if it’s proven this is all his doing.” He clenched his hands at the Guardian’s image in his mind; at sins unforgiven to this day.

“If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you were looking for an excuse to wring the Guardian’s neck like you’ve always dreamed of.” Jongdae merely grinned when Kyungsoo glared at him, irritation rising from his nonchalance. “I’m right, aren’t I? Of course I’m right. But I also know you are more logical than your impulsive need to kill. And I have faith you won’t give in easily to the darkness inside of you.”

Kyungsoo had a lot of choice words to say about the matter, but he chose not to say them anymore and exhaled out a deep breath. He acknowledged his irrationality on the matter, and he didn’t see it changing soon. “I pray to Mama that Guardian lives every single day of his damned life carrying the burden of what he’d done and paying dearly for every second he breathes.”

Jongdae shot him a look of morbid amusement but commented nothing more on the topic. “Demons and camellias aside, how is your brother? Has he been doing well?”

Kyungsoo’s mood lifted considerably in an instant. “Sehun has learned how to heal infected trees. He might or might not have told me this on purpose. Infected trees act as hosts to the camellias. Once they’re healed, the camellias do not regrow. When I check for infected trees, I sense traces of divine energy on healed ones. He knows how to use his powers but has no full control of it yet. He can be easily tracked down as he is; I’ll teach him how to not leave traces on my next visit.”

“That’s wonderful news, regardless,” Jongdae remarked, smiling proudly.

Kyungsoo gave a slow nod. “Otherwise, he’s been doing fine. He plays the gayageum conscientiously. He loves teaching others how to play it at his workplace. Sometimes he makes flowers bloom when playing songs.” He sighed softly before saying his next words. “He played _Lover’s Cry_ perfectly during my last visit. He said the song came to him in a dream.” 

Jongdae’s eyes rounded in astonishment, mouth slightly opening. The smile that followed looked a little more unsure than usual. “I have no doubt he plays it flawlessly. I taught him how to play the song, after all.” A chuckle. “I remember how he pestered me for nine days and nine nights to teach him the piece after he first heard it at a banquet. He’d just fallen so in love with the song it wasn’t hard to miss.” A sigh. “I miss the brat. As big as a brat he was, he was a hard worker who knew what he wanted and tirelessly worked for it.”

“He is the same now. He’s working hard in his own way,” Kyungsoo assured, though it sounded more to himself than to Jongdae.

Jongdae caught on fast, to his chagrin. “You are worried he might overexert himself.”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo confessed. “Sehun isn’t like before. He will need a lot of time before he can return. He cannot hurry his assimilation, either. That is why I will do whatever it takes so this demon problem doesn’t manifest into something worse—at least, not until Sehun is ready.”

“You can count on me, as well,” Jongdae assured, looking up at the tree; the endless rain of petals. The chain of orange lights glowed luminescent and hummed with energy. “My songs have delayed the formation of more wounds on the trunk. My attempts at healing some went in vain. As for sustenance, the tree is feeding on the divine energy quite well. I may not have a deep connection with it, but I can tell the tree likes ballads about heroes going on adventures. Other times it responds well to songs of love lost then found.”

Kyungsoo chuckled for the first time since his arrival. The tree’s tastes aligned well with someone he knew.

“I cannot do anything about the loss of fragrance.” Jongdae sounded remorseful saying this. “What a pity. Its fragrance was sublime.”

Kyungsoo took in the pink hue of the trees, how it hung on surviving for all these years. Cherry blossoms in the Human Realm bloomed during spring. He was surprised how its flowers bore no scent. A stark contrast to this very tree that used to carry a fragrance serving multiple purposes, such as enlivening low spirits and a soothing balm for tired souls, before it started drastically fading half a century ago.

Kyungsoo’s gaze strayed further up. Occupying the whole ceiling was a clock drawn and painted with absolute care, evident in the details of its face comprised of half a moon and half a sun moving in slow, perpetual rotation. In place of numbers were ancient glyphs similar to those that appeared on the wall and positioned round the clock in the same order. Five out of the nine glyphs were glowing a soft gold.

“Jongdae,” Kyungsoo called out, frowning as he continued to stare. “Why are five glyphs glowing on the Elysian Clock?” He looked at Jongdae, immediately regretting asking upon seeing the grimness of his face.

“The fifth glyph started glowing three days ago,” Jongdae said. Kyungsoo’s entire world stopped for a moment. “I am doing my best to strengthen the Tree of Life and serve as its temporary lifeline. But I cannot stop the glyphs from glowing. No god can stop what has been predetermined. Doom awaits the Three Realms if Sehun does not return before the last glyph lights up.”

Kyungsoo stared at the glowing glyphs once more.

The beauty of their golden hue had never looked more foreboding.

In this dream, Jongin was lying on his back, staring at the glistening, rocky ceiling of a cave.

He knew it glistened from the floating lanterns providing light. He suspected someone conjured those lanterns and might find out who if he was lucky.

He sat up and succeeded, but not without groaning at the sudden, throbbing pain on his right shoulder. A bandage was wrapped around it, a hint of red seeping through; the scent of something woodsy coming from beneath the gauze. He’d been lying on a makeshift bed of straw and grass covered with several sheets, one of those keeping him warm from the waist down; his pants, intact. A breeze blew in from the mouth of the cave, but Jongin wasn’t cold. He tried moving his arm; hissed at the hot, pulsing stabs of agony.

“Good. You’re awake.”

Jongin snapped his head up immediately.

The voice came from the figure seated at the corner of the cave. Perfect posture, graceful movements, long, black hair pooling all the way down onto the cave floor, emerald robes rustling.

The mysterious man Jongin saw in a previous dream.

“Who are you? Why am I here?” 

The mysterious man continued moving but did not stand or show signs of turning around. He deigned Jongin with a response, to his genuine surprise. “I found you unconscious and barely breathing in the meadow. An arrow was sticking out of your shoulder. The tip was dipped in demonbane.”

Jongin straightened up at the mention. “Demonbane?”

“That is correct. Whoever used demonbane on you, they intended for your death. Had I been a second too late, you would’ve inevitably perished from your wound.”

Jongin lifted a hand to his shoulder at the mention. “And who told you to heal me? I could have dealt with the wound on my own.”

“The arrogance! Is that how you show gratitude to who saved your life?” The mysterious man didn’t sound offended or insulted by Jongin’s answer. Rather, amusement underlined his words. “Perhaps pretending you are grateful for a few seconds will do you some good. I promise it will not hurt or bruise your ego to demonstrate basic courtesy, princeling.”

Jongin bristled at the term, seeing red and snarling on reflex. “How dare you call me that!” Forgetting he was wounded, he stood up and ignored the lightheadedness, swaying a little but managing control. Extending his claws, he leapt and aimed for the mysterious man’s neck—

—and swiped at air, eyes flying open at once and dove headfirst on his bedroom floor.

Jongin groaned and cradled the sore part of his head, irritation washing over him as the dream ran through his mind again. Often he did not easily lose his temper, but the mysterious man’s effortless attempt riled him up lightning-quick with a few words. Or just one, if Jongin was being honest.

_Princeling._ He loathed the term then; he harbored as much disdain for it now.

Jongin pushed back his hair; ruffled it in poorly-contained frustration. The mysterious man with long hair appeared twice in a row in his dreams, but he had yet to see his face. The voice was starting to sound increasingly familiar, despite having only spoken a few times in both dreams. Finding no answers, he slipped out of bed, walked to the windows, and frowned at the sheets of rain bathing Seoul. He exhaled hotly through his nose. Today wasn’t shaping out to be a good day.

The bath relaxed him, and he rifled through the closet in preparation for work tonight. He hadn’t been in the mood to feed recently—every time he marked his target for the night, images of the mysterious man would infiltrate his mind, killing his appetite in a flash. Jongin deliberated over the correlation in the deepest, most silent hours of the night but resulted in frustrating himself further. He would have to feed soon. The Tree of Discord’s surging hunger was a telltale sign.

Jongin had just slipped into a silk black shirt when he sensed Baekhyun’s presence; heard the soft dipping of the mattress.

“Turbulent times are upon us,” was Baekhyun’s way of greeting before Jongin could get a word out, deep seriousness etched on his expression.

Confusion, anger, the pinch of helplessness, a tinge of desperation. Jongin frowned at Baekhyun’s cocktail of brewing emotions. “Tell me.”

Baekhyun bit his thumb, eyes taking on a distracted, faraway look. When he spoke, it was in a quiet voice, the kind Jongin seldom heard him use. “I asked you before, I will ask you again: are you sure nothing odd is going on with the Tree of Discord?”

“Its hunger is increasing, but that’s normal around this time. Harvest Moon is close.” Jongin suspected this wasn’t the answer Baekhyun wanted to hear, but he could not provide anything else.

Baekhyun was quiet for several moments, the pitter-patter of rain against the panes filling the ensuing silence. “The Demon Realm has been in turmoil because of abominations casting fear on our kind. The abominations are the demons causing the disappearances and stealthy murders here. They do not discriminate in their slaughters—demon or human, both are treated like game.”

That explained Baekhyun’s extended absence lately; why he looked somber. Jongin told him as much.

Baekhyun massaged the bridge of his nose; flashed him a tiny, tired smile. It didn’t light up his eyes. “As I’ve said in the past, if there is truly nothing wrong with the Tree of Discord, I will trust your word. Do clarify something for me in exchange.”

Jongin listened to Baekhyun’s account of what transpired in his absence, horrified by what he was hearing. “So, you are guessing something strange is going on if the dead trees in the Demon Realm are growing camellias?”

“Yes,” Baekhyun answered. “No trees or flowers can grow in the Demon Realm. Our soil is too arid to support their survival. That is a fact known spread far and wide. The special case is the Tree of Discord, and it also widely known it is the only tree in our realm that grows camellias. I counted the petals, Jongin. There were ten.”

So were the camellias Jongin found at the crime scenes. He shared of his own findings but omitted details involving Sehun. Another story for another time.

The rain continued raging outside, showing no signs of stopping soon.

“I have taught the soldiers how to dispose of them. I have discussed this several times with the council. If we integrate your information, it means living or dead trees act as hosts to the camellias and leech off them. After sucking the life essence or infernal energy out of the trees, they give birth to those demons—the Red Force, as the council have labeled them.” Baekhyun’s face hardened at the mention of their name, albeit a fitting description. They moved in swarms, their carnelian skin was like dried blood. “What I cannot comprehend is how the camellias managed to subsist here in the Human Realm. There is simply no way for them to crawl out of the shrine and cross over. They would not last long away from the Tree of Discord.”

“I have no answer to offer,” Jongin told him honestly; regretfully. “I wish the answers were easily found, but my knowledge is limited even as a Guardian. One thing is clear: the Red Force is spreading, and we need to eliminate the root of the problem before more senseless killings happen.”

Sehun carried the black card around with him, pulling it out of his pocket to stare and wonder while bound for the traditional music center, breaks from walks, the limited seconds between the end and start of class. He almost withered in embarrassment when a middle-aged teacher picked up the card off the floor after bumping into each other in the hallway.

“You don’t look like the type who frequents these places,” the teacher commented in genuine astonishment, returning the card to him.

Sehun hurriedly stashed away the card from plain sight. “Uh, I don’t.” He wasn’t lying, but his cheeks started warming up. “Someone I know gave me the card and told me to find him there.”

The teacher frowned in obvious disapproval. “He works at the club? Is he short in cash so he’s taken to looking for jobs in sleazy places?”

Sehun’s lack of ready answer frustrated him, but not as much as the judgmental tone the teacher used in talking about Jongin. If Jongin truly was in dire straits, why so quick to make snap judgments? Why was it always the older generation who showed narrow-mindedness when they allegedly had more life experience? It was no one’s place to play a higher being and judge; impose what others should or shouldn’t do. He wished more would exercise understanding and consideration.

Days passed since receiving the card, but Sehun couldn’t stop puzzling over why Jongin asked to see him at Privé. What exactly did Jongin want to show him there? He didn’t believe Jongin was in dire straits to be working at a club—the fact a demon would even be in that sort of predicament was hilarious. Even so, Sehun couldn’t think of reasons why working at a club was looked down on in general. A tiny part of him whispered this might be a trap. What Jongin would gain from this, Sehun wasn’t sure; but he came to a decision once the new week rolled by.

Sehun had just finished playing tug of war with Vivi after growling at the card from the low table and tried ripping it to shreds when Hyunbin’s off-key singing announced his arrival. Hyunbin was halfway through the courtyard, but Sehun could already tell he’d been drinking from the sway in his movements; taken something illegal again from his bloodshot eyes once he stepped inside the house and darted for the refrigerator. Waiting for Hyunbin to show up sober and off drugs was like expecting Vivi’s white coat to turn brown, so he might as well drop the news now. If he chickened out last minute, Sehun could convince Hyunbin not to take him seriously.

Hyunbin stopped chugging water when Sehun let the words slip. The water spilled unattractively from his mouth down to his lap.

“Run that by me again?” Hyunbin asked, after a long and loaded silence. Uncaring for his wet clothes, he set the water bottle aside and wiped his mouth using his arm. “Did I hear you right? You want to go to a club? _You?_ _A club?_”

Sehun nodded slowly, unsure of what to expect. “Is Wednesday a bad time to go?”

“No! Not at all!” Hyunbin looked positively awed and thrilled. “Wow! Never thought I’d see the day you’d initiate to go hang at a club! Usually, I have to drag you out of the house—”

“—because you need a babysitter to make sure you don’t get into trouble or trip and die in a ditch—”

“—but what a surprise! Surprise! Woo!” Hyunbin shot to his feet and danced around the low table, waving his limbs like an octopus, then plopped down beside him. “So what’s the occasion? What club are we going to? Do you want me to choose for us? Are we getting drunk together?”

Sehun couldn’t help smiling at Hyunbin’s enthusiasm. Internally winced at the heavy stench of alcohol and something else clinging to Hyunbin’s skin and clothes. “A friend asked me to drop by.” He showed Hyunbin the card. “Not sure if you’ve heard of the place. Who am I kidding, you’re a notorious clubber. You might have been there already.”

Sehun expected an answer, some humble bragging, maybe even a laugh.

This Hyunbin, drunk and high and submerged in pensive silence, staring long and hard at the card without blinking, was a foreign sight.

“So you’ve been to, or…?” Sehun prompted, when he couldn’t take Hyunbin’s silence any longer.

“I’ve passed by the place but never stepped foot inside,” Hyunbin finally answered. “Saw no reason to. Looks like one of those clubs all posh on the outside but fall short on the hype.”

“Oh.” Sehun didn’t know what more to say to that. “Still, I want to go.”

Hyunbin haphazardly tossed the card onto the table. “Tell your friend to meet you somewhere else.”

“I would if I could, but I don’t have their contact details.”

“Meet your friend there and go somewhere else after.”

Sehun frowned a little. “Is Privé really that bad of a club? Online reviews rave about how fun and safe a place it is compared to other high-end clubs.”

A good portion of the comments also remarked how hot and gorgeous the dancers were, but Sehun thought not to include that in the current conversation.

Hyunbin snorted, a derisive sound. “Sponsored reviews are a thing, Sehun. Deleting bad feedback is normal practice, too. A lot of clubs engage in shady businesses. Some are dens for depraved and unimaginable activities you don’t see happening in broad daylight. Privé is the biggest example of such a place—the biggest example in the whole of Seoul! You won’t last in that sort of place, Sehun. You will _perish_.”

Sehun had seen the many sides of Hyunbin when he was drunk, high, or both. Not a single one of those sides included bloodshot eyes progressively becoming redder in shade the more he spoke, veins protruding from his neck and forehead, or the menacing aura about him.

“I don’t know what you mean by that last statement,” Sehun began, breaking out of his baffled state after a tenuous silence, “but my health is not too frail to require immediate medical assistance from inhaling cigarette fumes.”

Hyunbin must’ve been slapped awake by his words, for he startled at once, blinking wide, bewildered eyes at him. Suddenly, he was clinging to Sehun, shouting, “Forgive me! I overstepped the line! I didn’t mean to upset you! Forget everything I said, I didn’t mean any of those! None!”

Shocked, Sehun consoled a now-sobbing Hyunbin in his arms, puzzled by this rapid switch from ferocious lion to tame lamb. He murmured plenty of assurances to stop Hyunbin from blaming himself, patiently repeated over and over he wasn’t upset; wouldn’t hold this against him. When Hyunbin’s sobbing was reduced to hiccups, he promised to stay sober so they could go to Privé if it would make him happy.

Sehun should’ve rejoiced of having his way in the end. The memory of Hyunbin’s red eyes was too unforgettable image to ignore, confused if he was seeing things or a side-effect of whatever drug he consumed.

He forgot about it in the coming days as he went about his everyday life. There had been no news of random disappearances lately, but Sehun didn’t stop doing his nightly patrols and inspecting the trees for signs of infection, going as far as covering all sides of Yeouido Park. He wished there was a more efficient way to track the growth of the demonic flowers before they could bloom. He worried the disappearances would start again when he least suspected or happen in other parks. The flowers showed no signs of regrowth on purified trees.

Come Wednesday night, Hyunbin knocked twice on the door frame of his room. “Are you ready?”

Sehun fastened the last button of his shirt and made a noise of agreement. He patted Vivi twice, refilled his food and water dishes, told him to be a good boy and guard the house in his place. Vivi tilted his head and barked.

On the walk to the subway station, Sehun looked skyward and noted how full the moon looked tonight. The sight normally inspired him to play his gayageum, but a lurking, unnamed feeling at the back of his mind overshadowed it.

Privé was every bit the posh and extravagant club described on the official website. Pictures taken of its exterior and interior posted online in their homepage and across various review sites failed to capture its decadence. Everyone was dressed for a fun night ahead, showing ample amounts of skin or teasing flashes, chatter and laughter everywhere. An EDM remix of popular pop songs rolled off the speakers, the bass bouncing off the walls; small groups out on the dance floor enjoying the music. In the center of the room was a raised platform where club dancers performed. At the very end of it was a single pole if the dancer required it for their performances.

“So where’s that friend of yours?” Hyunbin asked above the din. They sat on a table that conveniently gave them the nicest view of the platform. “Did they give you a time to meet? Exact table?”

Sehun wanted to smack himself for the many loopholes in this rendezvous. Didn’t ask for contact details, didn’t ask for specifics… where did his head go at the time, really?

“Brilliant,” he heard Hyunbin comment, after failing to give an answer. “So you’re telling me we’ll be here until closing time unless that friend of yours shows up.”

“Okay, fine, I admit I should’ve asked for a specific time. I’m sorry.”

Hyunbin shook his head. “Whatever.” He waved a waiter over to order for both of them.

Upset at his own incompetence and Hyunbin rubbing that very fact to his face, Sehun scowled, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. He swept a glance over the room, watching the sea of bodies dancing to the beat, downing shot after shot, unsubtle flirting and blatant making out. He didn’t notice it at first; didn’t hit him right away. Didn’t realize the plethora of sin energies swarming in the vicinity until more customers arrived, lust the most prominent and powerful. Exposure to exorbitant levels of infernal energy weakened Sehun faster than a snap of fingers. High concentration of sin energies affected him less but still posed as a health hazard.

Lightheadedness was the beginning.

Sehun closed his eyes and willed it away. He itched to purify the club. He heard Hyunbin talk, but he wasn’t sure if it was to him or self-commentary. The song beat turned aggressive, the strobe lights rotating accordingly. The lust surged; Sehun’s mind spun, gut lurching. Running away seemed like a practical option to conserve his powers, but he couldn’t leave until Jongin showed up. Whenever he decided to, anyway.

The current song ended and faded. The lights dimmed at once. Abrupt shouts melting into cheers; rushed footsteps hurrying to crowd the space around the platform. Various energies flared in the span of seconds, lust reigning supreme with undertones of excitement.

The arrival of an unexpected presence.

Demon. Dangerous. Strong.

Jongin.

The lights returned. The crowd erupted in raucous cheers and applause. Jongin stood calm and composed on the platform, surrounded by an air of surety, the pristine white of his jeans and denim jacket a stark contrast to the cocksure twist to his mouth.

Lust surged treacherously high, striking Sehun swift and merciless. He gripped onto the table edge to anchor himself, overcome with a sudden weakness. Too much. The amount of lust was too much to handle. Closing his eyes, he used a fraction of his divine energy to lend him strength and negate the nauseating effects. The strength returned to his body a tiny bit at a time. His mind cleared in the same pace.

Right on time for him to register the bass dropped, signaling the start of the song; the dance number. Jongin might be standing by himself on the platform, but his presence alone was phenomenal in the way he commanded the stage, perhaps fueled by the knowledge everyone’s eyes in the room were hyper-focused on him and only him. It was impossible to look away from Jongin dancing. Fierceness and sensuality intermingled with his mesmerizing movements and gestures, executed with precision and undeniable charisma. Jongin’s lips parted seductively, tongue darting out, stare searing with white-hot fervor.

A stare directed at Sehun the moment their gazes met and held.

The crowd never stopped cheering and screaming. Combined with the music, it should’ve drowned out every other sound, but Sehun caught fragmented arguments around him arguing about who Jongin stared at.

Jongin’s stare declared a challenge. _Take it,_ his stare seemed to coax. _Take what I’m offering you. Take me._

A ploy at seduction. Sehun wondered if this was inclusive of the performance. He didn’t break the eye contact, but he did throw Jongin a smirk.

“You wish.”

He picked up on the flare of surprise and dissatisfaction; caught the split-second frown of Jongin’s mouth before it disappeared.

The lust was incessant in its rise as the crowd transformed into one large mass enslaved to Jongin’s dance of temptation—cheering, crying, clamoring for him. Screams hit inhuman decibels at the flash of white. Jongin had stripped off his jacket as he sashayed his way to the front, revealing well-sculpted muscles, broad shoulders tapering to a slim waist, and unblemished golden skin. The jacket landed at the back of the room, a fight erupting instantly on who could have the item.

Jongin ended the dance with a sultry gaze and a devilish smirk; arm outstretched in silent invitation and commanded sensual surrender to him, lips shaping syllables of a hushed order that reverberated through the club.

“Confess your desires to me.”

Lights out.

Sehun observed the crowd’s collectively dazed faces; how the lust generated from watching Jongin’s dance of temptation held them captive in its impenetrable net. Watching people lose themselves, the failed attempt in luring him to submit—there was no doubt this wasn’t the normal effect of a famous club dancer’s performance, nor was Jongin any ordinary demon.

“The fuck was that pretty boy on about?” Hyunbin’s crude remark didn’t go unheard amid the thunderous applause and chants for more. “Confess _what_ to him now? Was that a shameless show of priest kink? Fucking outrageous! They should screen the people they hire in this club better.”

“Honey, you must be really new here if you’re talking shit,” the customer from behind their table said, clearly unimpressed with Hyunbin’s remarks by their annoyed glares. “That hot piece of specimen up there who just performed? He’s one of the owners of the club. He’s not just anyone.”

“Oh, and that kink shaming? Not cool,” piped up a second customer, disapproving frown on their face. “Who cares if he has a priest kink? I’d gladly get down on my knees and confess all my desires to him!”

Sehun immediately grabbed Hyunbin’s arm and squeezed in warning. “Don’t you dare make a scene here. One night. Let’s have one night where you don’t get in trouble for something ridiculous.”

Hyunbin shrugged off his hand. “Right. We’re here to wait for your friend who hasn’t shown their tardy ass yet. Where the fuck is that friend of yours, anyway? Does that friend think we’ll be waiting on them forever—”

“That was him just now.”

The club’s noise dwindled down to manageable levels, but Hyunbin’s icy silence had never been more deafening.

“Fuck.” So many emotions played out on Hyunbin’s face Sehun couldn’t identify them fast enough. “_Fuck!_ Sehun, are you serious? Are you telling me you’ve met him already? Since when? Where? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sehun furrowed his brows. Hyunbin had never shown so much interest—or hostility—toward people he met. “I met him in the park a month ago. Why the many questions?”

Hyunbin’s eyes could’ve bulged out of their sockets if he widened them any further. His nostrils flared, and his eyes turned bloodshot, enhancing his livid look. “That long? You’ve known him for _that long_, but you didn’t bother telling me? _Fuck!_” The harsh curse earned him some looks from neighboring tables. “Sehun, you should be telling me these things, not hiding it!”

Annoyance sparked within Sehun. He shot Hyunbin a sharp glare. “I’m not hiding anything from you! I could’ve told you sooner about meeting him if you weren’t busy getting drunk or high most days you can’t even see straight! For fuck’s sake, I don’t even know where you disappear to most of the time, and you won’t even tell me; but do you see me getting pissy? Have I ever been pissed at you for not sharing things with me?” He grabbed the pitcher of ice-cold water and slammed it down in front of Hyunbin. Water sloshed over the rim; splashed the front of Hyunbin’s shirt. Sehun couldn’t bring himself to be concerned. “Sober up. When I come back, I want your head clear and out of your ass.”

Sehun’s chair screeched across the floor as he stood up with a huff, narrowly avoiding Hyunbin’s hand that shot out to snatch his arm. He stomped off without waiting for a reply, ignoring Hyunbin’s calls of his name.

He found solace and silence by the alleyway at the back of Privé. Sehun sat on the sidewalk, unmindful of the dirt, and ran a hand down his face. He didn’t understand Hyunbin’s unfriendliness; where it was coming from. Toward someone he’d only seen and heard of today, no less. Was it insecurity? Sehun jived well with people, liked befriending others, but Hyunbin would always be his best friend. Hyunbin should know that by now, so his recent behavior toward Jongin was disappointing.

Sehun ran his hands through his hair. Demons were the last creatures he would defend—should be defending—especially now that he had an idea of Jongin’s true capabilities. At the same time, a persistent voice encouraged him to continue believing in the existence of Jongin’s good side; continue pursuing the friendship, even at the face of high risks. Sehun couldn’t explain it now if asked, but he believed he and Jongin crossed paths for a reason. Why Jongin acted a certain way. Removing the grass blade in his hair, bantering with him—no true cold-blooded demon would willingly put themselves through all that.

Sehun straightened at something tugging him from behind. An invisible pull, tentative at first, becoming surer in the ticking seconds. Stronger. Demanding his attention. Tendrils of infernal energy, beckoning him to stand. Follow.

Jongin.

Jongin calling him on purpose was more baffling than Sehun’s immediate recognition of the infernal energy’s source. He could choose to ignore the pull, walk away, never look back. The longer he sat contemplating, more infernal energy came out to pull. Sehun’s temples were beginning to throb slightly. Resisting didn’t seem an option. Unable to contain his curiosity, Sehun hoped he wouldn’t regret this.

The narrow passageway was well-lit, so he had no trouble navigating his way. Sehun sensed he was getting close from the strengthening infernal energy and the rapid aching of his head. Sehun used a sliver of divine energy to pacify the aching; prayed he wouldn’t need to face Jongin in a fight if the situation turned for the worse. He wasn’t a fighter like Kyungsoo, and he doubted he could take on someone as powerful as Jongin in terms of physicality.

Sehun slowed his steps as he neared. Jongin’s energy was at its strongest at the end of the alleyway. All he had to do was turn left. His ears picked up a muffled whimper. Sehun took a deep breath for courage; another, to prepare himself for whatever might be thrown his way.

Bracing for an attack, he turned left.

Nothing in the world prepared him for what he saw.

Jongin, back to the wall, still shirtless from his performance, pants pooled around his feet. In front of him, a man on his knees, hands delicately holding onto Jongin’s hips as he sucked him off, head moving at a leisured pace. The man’s eyes were closed, seemingly enjoying the task. Enjoying himself, making little moans of pleasure interspersed with lewd sucking sounds.

Jongin looked like he was enjoying himself, too. His hips arched off the wall, reaching down to cup the man’s jaw as he worked his mouth on him. “That’s it, you’re doing very good.” The words came out in an encouraging purr, stroking the man’s jaw as he set out to further please Jongin.

“Perform well. We have an audience.”

Jongin merely tilted his head to Sehun’s direction in acknowledgment, but the angle gave him a clear view of his glowing red eyes.

The man stopped what he was doing, cock barely slipping out of his mouth. He gave Sehun a bored look; resumed giving head. Sehun noticed his movements were more enthusiastic this time. He wished he didn’t see how the man removed his hand from Jongin’s hip to reach down and squeeze himself, groaning obscenely around the cock in his mouth.

“He’s an exhibitionist,” Jongin supplied in explanation, tone flippant, like this was a normal, everyday occurrence for him. It probably was. “I’m merely fulfilling his secret desire.” He smoothed back the hair away from the man’s forehead and made cooing noises of encouragement. The red glow of Jongin’s eyes vanished. “Why not put on a show for our guest?”

The lust rolling off the man was so strong Sehun was hit by a sudden dizziness. His mind screamed at him to do something—flee, fight, push away the man, throttle Jongin—but Sehun stood rooted and immobile, eyes peeled open at this unfolding horror show. Sehun thought of an idea; reached out for a feel of the man’s energy. No signs pointed to him being spellbound or charmed to do things against his will. No foul play.

A human willing to get pleasure from a demon—Sehun had read similar stories from old scripts and ancient texts, seen it in movies. They bore a name, on the tip of his tongue; but what stopped Sehun from saying it was that somehow, even if unbelievable, Jongin seemed more than the name, beyond the definition.

“I can hear the cogs of your pretty head turning all the way from here.” Jongin’s comment cut through Sehun’s thoughts. He pushed the man away from him by the shoulder; pulled up his pants in a quick crouch. The man made a noise of dissatisfaction. Jongin fed him three of his fingers. The man happily sucked on them. “Oh, did I forget to mention his oral fixation, too?” 

“I don’t understand why you called me here,” Sehun said, and it was the truth. “Is it to show off your sexual prowess? Being able to sleep with anyone of your choosing? So you like sex. Big deal. You feed on sexual energy? Sure, whatever. If you thought I was going to change my mind on wanting to be friends with you because of your huge sexual appetite, you should try harder to put me off.”

To Sehun’s utmost surprise, Jongin threw his head back and laughed long and loud into the otherwise quiet night. The man merely paused from his surprise but went back to feeding his oral fixation.

“You truly have some nerve,” Jongin said, the moment he calmed down enough to form words. 

“I have a lot of nerves. You just don’t know it yet,” Sehun sassed, crossing his arms. He wasn’t sure where this bravado was coming from. Wrestling with his panic was tiring, but he had to know Jongin’s intentions, if there were any.

“You are right: I feed on sexual energy. You are also right that I wanted to show the sort of demon you are so adamant on befriending. Acting like you’re not scared of me is entertaining in its own way. You don’t think I can sense it? I do.” Jongin drew out his fingers from the man’s mouth and pulled him up to stand. “But this is just a prelude to the real show.”

Sehun’s attention piqued. “What do you mean?”

The air around them stirred, a foreboding silence fast approaching. Jongin turned the man around by the shoulders so he was facing Sehun, face debauched and frustrated. “Tell me, Sehun, how do you see this man?”

“You could do better?” Sehun ignored the man’s insulted sniff and flare of his nostrils. Was this a trick question? “Plain looking? What do you want me to say, exactly? A normal man?”

“Yes and no,” Jongin answered. “This is the kind of plain-looking, ordinary, normal man you would see anywhere on the streets. What no one knows is this plain-looking, ordinary, normal man hides a secret.” A hand grabbed the man’s jaw and forced his head sideways. It wasn’t a comfortable angle from how the man strained to look at Jongin. Eye to eye, he asked, “Did you think no one would know your background as a serial arsonist and murderer, the mastermind behind the deadliest mall bombing and sitting at the top of the list of Seoul’s most wanted, Na Jaewook?”

Two gasps echoed in the alley. One came from Sehun’s mouth. The other came from the man—Jaewook—who looked visibly shocked by the revelation.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jaewook said, laughter taking on a nervous edge. Sehun noticed the trembling of his knees.

“Of course you don’t. That’s always the first excuse, isn’t it? A criminal won’t admit to their crimes. They’ll deny everything until their dying breath.” The sinister undercurrent in Jongin’s words was perceptible. His fingers dug into Jaewook’s jaw. Jaewook winced. “So how was it, killing people without remorse? Oh, but asking you won’t do anything for me. I have gained little in this tryst. Your sexual energy tastes appalling—the worst I have had. I have no use for you any longer.”

“Wait!” Jaewook clawed at Jongin’s wrist uselessly, panic glinting in his eyes. “You said you wanted one night with me! You’re a fraud! You seduced me here and—”

Jongin’s eyes flashed red. A forewarning. Jaewook shut up, face ashen.

“For what it’s worth, I do seduce my prey, but never use enchantments on them to get what I want. _Never._ To insinuate otherwise is insulting.”

Sehun felt rather than heard the groan of the ground beneath his feet, like something was trying to fight its way out. A sudden fragrance perfuming the air—flowery, sweet, nauseating.

Red fluttered before Sehun’s eyes, followed by a second, a third, another. Innumerable. Petals red and velvety rained on and around him, covering the ground and impossible to see anything else underneath. His surroundings, no longer the alleyway; instead, limitless darkness, save for the full, round moon hanging in the sky. Behind Jongin, a gigantic and imposing tree bearing the ruby red camellias infecting healthy trees and birthing those human-eating demons.

Infernal energy emanated from the tree in unstoppable waves, dragging Sehun under its currents. Panic zipped down his spine as he reached for his powers to counteract it from draining him of his strength.

_Please. _Sehun fell on one knee. His head ached to explode. Nausea wriggled at his throat. _Please, don’t forsake me now. _His gaze slid to the bracelet around his right wrist. The bracelet called out his name, coaxing him to act on his thoughts.

Kyungsoo’s strict warning echoed in his mind:

_“You must never remove this bracelet, unless it is truly your last resort.”_

Jaewook’s pained screams took Sehun’s attention away from the bracelet, his own agony forgotten at the moment. Jaewook’s complexion was pasty white, shirt shredded and chest bleeding. Jongin stood before him, head held high and pinning the man with a haughty stare. Where Jongin’s left hand should be was now a demon’s claw; long, sharp nails dyed and dripping blood on the petals.

“How funny of you to be scared of a beautiful camellia tree.” The condescension in Jongin’s voice was thick. One step forward. Jaewook scampered back like a trapped mouse. “You can scream however much you want. Go ahead; I don’t mind. No one’s going to hear or rescue you.”

“Where am I?” Jaewook demanded, spit flying in random directions. He pointed at Jongin’s claw with a shaky finger. “D-demon!”

Jongin sighed, a bored sound. “At least you got it right on the first try.”

Sehun couldn’t stop a surprised gasp from coming out. Others? There had been others before Jaewook?

“It won’t save you from your sealed fate of death, unfortunately.”

Thin roots shot out from the ground, coiling around Jaewook’s neck and arms, effectively trapping him and limiting mobility. Jaewook screamed and struggled. The roots didn’t like his resistance; tightened more and choked him.

Battling the whirling of his head, Sehun forced his legs to cooperate and rush forward, grabbing hold onto the stubborn roots and summoned a portion of his power. Light flashed from his palms. The roots screeched. Sehun squeezed tighter until they squirmed and skittered away, crawling back to where they came from. Sehun gave the same treatment to other roots holding Jaewook captive. Some roots tried to grab at his ankles but were intercepted by the protective barrier he erected around himself in time. The roots hissed and slithered away in defeat.

Jaewook fell to the ground, hands flying to his neck as he struggled to breathe.

Sehun glared at Jongin. “You have no right or power to dictate who lives or dies in this world.”

Jongin’s expression was unreadable, save for an arched eyebrow. His red eyes were hard and sharp. He strode up to Sehun one measured, foreboding step at a time with the captivating but lethal grace of a panther as he spoke in a calm voice.

“And who do you think you are to tell me what or what not to do? Am I not doing the Human Realm a favor by ridding it of its criminals, the scum of their society? It takes years before the police can track down the most wanted criminals, an achievement that can be done by demons in less than a minute. Humans should be thankful we don’t set the criminals free once we’ve found them.”

“That still doesn’t give you the right to lay judgment on human fates,” Sehun argued, shaking his head to clear his blurry, doubling vision. “I don’t excuse this man’s unforgivable deeds. The crimes he’d done cost many lives to be lost, and I agree he should pay for them. But this should be left to the police. Drop him off at the police station. Let him face justice as he should by going through the legal system.”

“Why should a criminal deserve to be treated humanely when his crimes have been anything but?” Jongin asked, a challenge in his words. “If I showed you every single crime he committed in his life until this moment, you would not be defending him.” A small tilt of his mouth in the imitation of a smirk. “You might even join me in wanting to get rid of him immediately.”

Sehun shook his head twice: in disagreement, and to ward off the rush of dizziness. “It isn’t our place to determine his fate. Anyone’s.”

“So you’re saying you won’t allow me to do as I please to him.”

“If I need to protect him from you so I can hand him over to the police, then so be it.”

Almost immediately, regret struck Sehun for saying such big words. What was he even thinking, going up against a demon of Jongin’s caliber, and in his current state?

Jongin let out a derisive chuckle. “What are you saying, Sehun? You look ready to break from a single punch.”

“Hey, now; make that two punches. My honor won’t stand for that kind of insult.” Sehun had lost count of his attempts at keeping the nausea at bay; easing the swimming of his mind to little effect. The headache was excruciating, limbs losing strength. He grabbed tight onto the strings holding up the protective barrier around him, reiterating to himself over and over never to let it go.

The bracelet weighed heavy around Sehun’s wrist, silver charm and delicate string searing against his skin.

Sehun expected Jongin to attack from the way he listed his head.

An attack happened, but it came from behind.

Sehun felt the press of cool steel against the side of his neck, right above the vein. A pocket knife, judging from the shape of the blade. He dared not move, but he was stunned speechless by Jaewook’s ungratefulness after what he’d done.

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck the both of you are talking about, but there’s no way you’re hauling my ass to the police station. After years of living in freedom? Yeah, no, I’d rather be dead than spend my life behind bars,” Jaewook spat out in anger.

Jongin’s eyes narrowed. A red aura surrounded him. “Allow me to grant your wish since you seem to want it so badly.”

Sehun heard Jaewook squeak behind him. Jaewook’s hold on the pocket knife faltered, the blade slightly grazing against Sehun’s neck. One wrong move from Jaewook, and that blade might just sink into his jugular.

“Hey, listen to me. If you kill me now, you’re not going to get out of here alive.” Sehun didn’t know where he plucked the courage to talk when he was in danger of getting hurt by either human or demon. “Remember that you’re going up against a demon. A demon with powers. He’s not going to spare you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Shut up! Shut the hell up!”

Sehun flinched at the volume; the abrasive tone. Jaewook must’ve cracked, full-on ranting now and laughing hysterically. Sehun didn’t dare move yet, but the things Jaewook were rambling about sounded suspiciously like the crimes he was reported to have done in the news. He included other unrecorded crimes, one more heinous than the last; his unabashed enjoyment of torturing his victims begging for their lives, the adrenalin rush from the helpless screams of people trapped in burning homes.

Sehun squeezed his eyes shut, heart aching on behalf of the victims. He couldn’t bear to listen one second longer.

Sickening. Na Jaewook man was the pinnacle of a criminal who deserve to be incarcerated for the rest of his life.

Catching Jongin’s knowing stare at him, like he knew Sehun would be disgusted, wasn’t comforting in the least.

The earth rumbled violently beneath them, vibrations stronger than the last. Sehun lost his balance, swaying and slipping off to the side, escaping the pocket knife’s reach. In that millisecond of distraction, Sehun’s grip on the barrier wavered. The momentary fluctuation was long enough for infernal energy to pour in. He couldn’t summon back the barrier fast enough; the strings of power, so far out of reach. Sehun ground his teeth trying. Reaching. Gripped; summoned. Barrier restored; in return, labored breathing and worsened spinning of his surroundings. His palms were turning cold.

Jaewook was screaming uncontrollably now. Thin roots lashed out once more. Jaewook seemed more prepared this time and flung his pocket knife at the roots then tried to escape.

“Foolish cretin. Where do you think you’re going?” Jongin asked in a silky, dangerous voice, though he made no move.

Sehun struggled to regulate his breathing; to regain enough clarity of mind and sight.

Wished they didn’t return if it meant not witnessing the next sequence of events and remembering them with cursed accuracy.

Jaewook protecting himself and failing miserably as the roots reached for him. One wrapped around his wrist; he cleanly sliced it off. More roots came for him. More slicing. An endless, tiring task. Jaewook tried to run, pure fear radiating off him. Petals flew everywhere in his haste. A long, yawning groan coming from the ground. The echo of footsteps stopped.

A massive root with a pointed tip sprung out and stabbed Jaewook through his chest, right where the heart was. Blood sprayed in different directions mid-air. It showered the petals; splattered on the trunk. Another mighty groan from the earth; the giant root swiftly retreating together with the corpse.

The tree glowed a dazzling red. Camellias bloomed on the branches and permeated the air with its scent, as if concealing the traces of murder; the metallic scent of blood.

The full moon above slowly bled.

Sehun’s vision was blocked by a human hand not his own. He barely felt Jongin’s presence behind him, barely registered the words he whispered in his ear, too astounded to move his hand away or form a proper reaction.

“You don’t deserve to see such unsightly things.”

Whatever scream that should’ve come out died at the back of Sehun’s throat. It felt clogged, but not obstructed enough to let some oxygen pass through as he choked on air, triggering the rise of bile, and heaving the contents of his stomach.

When Sehun felt like his stomach had nothing left, he roughly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled himself together; tried to calm his racing pulse that hadn’t slowed since Jaewook’s death.

Jongin hummed, a satisfied sound. “The tree is delightfully content with its meal.”

“Na Jaewook shouldn’t have died the way he did.” Sehun’s winced when he spoke, throat feeling raw.

“Are you still adamant on insisting Na Jaewook deserved a fair trial?” Jongin sounded irate; wore a similar expression. “Na Jaewook is dead and gone. Nothing you say or do will make him come back. Do not mourn for someone who would not do the same for you.”

Sehun stood on wobbly legs, ignoring the explosions of pain on different parts of his body. He took in the sight of the glowing tree. So much infernal energy threatening to make him sick. So much camellias ethereal yet terrifying after knowing the source of their beauty.

Roots surfaced, moving and twisting but not attacking. Sehun refused to become the next source of sustenance for this demonic tree. His body was close to shutting down; divine energy rapidly depleting after using it mainly on the protective barrier. He looked at the roots again, wriggling as they waited, a wariness about them. He had to be wise with his next move.

He might not win in a fight against Jongin, so he did the next best thing.

Sehun slapped his palm down on the ground; summoned every drop of divine energy, channeled it toward the tree with the aim of purification. Blinding white light circled around Sehun and burst upward, casting a long glow against the tree’s demon red.

The earth protested with its turbulent shaking. The camellia petals curled up within themselves, flowers withering as a whole and dropping from their branches one after the other. The tree flashed red intermittently, akin to the beat of a heart on overdrive. An unseen force seemed to be pushing back against Sehun’s powers, determined to weaken him. It took on a voice that was neither man nor woman, hissing out its warning in a repeated chant:

_“Go back. You have no place here, Tree of Life Guardian.”_

Sehun pushed back with equal strength, if not more, gathering all the strings and yanking at them to release his reserved powers. He knew he was overexerting himself. He knew he would pay dearly. He was paying as early as now: darkness starting to eat away at the edges of his vision; concerted efforts in breathing; blood dripping down his nose. If he could put a stop to the possible source of demons, Sehun would have no regrets doing this sacrifice.

And then he was grabbed and lifted off the ground by the neck, back roughly slammed against the trunk.

Sehun’s vision swam in blurry colors and sharpened in clarity to see Jongin’s furious face. He held Sehun’s neck with a vicious grip using his demon hand, squeezing tight but not completely cutting off air. Sehun couldn’t feel the ground under his feet. He aimed to kick Jongin in vain.

Jongin snarled in warning; pinned him rougher, harder against the tree trunk. “You are no warlock. You are not human, either. I asked you this before, but you answer me in riddles. Now, within an inch of your life, answer me this: who are you, and how do you possess so much power no mere human or warlock can dream of having?”

Sehun tasted blood on his tongue; more of it gushing down his nose. He began choking when Jongin tightened his hold around his neck. Even if futile, he tried prying Jongin’s fingers off.

Sehun was losing hold on his consciousness. His arms weighed heavy, his body past the point of exhaustion. Tired. He was so tired. Was this how he was going to perish—in the hands of a demon he stubbornly believed wasn’t as terrible as he let on, only to be proven wrong in the end?

_“You must never remove this bracelet, unless it is truly your last resort.”_

Kyungsoo’s warning had never echoed louder than it had before.

Betting on this wild chance, Sehun reached for his bracelet and yanked it off with all his might—

—but Jongin seized his wrist right away, claw enclosing around it before the bracelet could be removed.

Sehun couldn’t remember if he reacted to the sudden appearance of blue light between Jongin’s fingers, growing brighter and brighter he had to close his eyes; how the bracelet seemed to burn through the skin of his wrist, as if resisting removal. He did remember gasping aloud, wind knocked out of his lungs. Colors burst in his mind and took shape, innumerable scenes rushing at him in continuous, untamed waves.

And then it stopped as fast as it happened. Sehun found himself standing in the middle of a meadow. The stars and moon above cast light across the iridescent flowers waving in the breeze. He wasn’t sure why he was here, no idea of the location, but he had a vague idea of seemingly waiting for something.

A softer breeze blew past. Sehun sensed a presence behind him before he heard the footsteps of someone approaching. It spoke of familiarity, a non-threatening entity, and sparked his curiosity. He looked behind his shoulder.

“Been waiting for me?”

Under the single beam of moonlight stood Jongin, but at the same time resembled nothing like the one Sehun knew. This Jongin stood with a hand on his waist, one hip jutting out to the side, stance as proud as his smile. This Jongin was fair-haired, almost looking like silver; skin gloriously and beautifully bronze. Through the open gap of Jongin’s silk burgundy robe, Sehun spied red, undulating curves painted on the sides of his torso, along collarbones and across the chest. From pointed ears hung jeweled earrings; atop his head curled horns black as midnight, behind him a tail swaying relaxed and playful.

This Jongin was obviously demon, physical attributes and overall aura pointing to such, but so different from the one intent on taking his life earlier. This Jongin didn’t make Sehun feel threatened or scared, even as he neared. This Jongin looked at him with so much emotion in his gaze it was unreal, none of them homicidal; reflected in the way he reached out to stroke Sehun’s cheek tenderly. 

Sehun’s heart almost dropped to his stomach at the uncharacteristic gesture; the way Jongin’s stare was ablaze with surprising adoration and affection.

Sehun felt like his heart would explode when Jongin bracketed his cheeks with both hands and kissed him deep and passionate.

Who was this Jongin, and what was he to Sehun?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who read this last week, welcome back. Here is the complete 31k version of Chapter 2.
> 
> To those who stumbled upon this by accident, welcome I guess.

The melody of a gayageum echoed within the temple; bounced off its walls. Jongdae and the muses played an ensemble about harvest season; the gratitude of the people to the gods for blessing them with fresh crops, the merrymaking attached to the event.

The cherry blossoms continued falling but were completely scentless, now. Jongdae was concerned the scent wasn’t returning; wondered how long would it take for its healing smell to grace the premises once more. The good news was some of the tree’s wounds started mending. They weren’t closing up entirely, but as long as his songs and his healing energy could help the Tree of Life, he wouldn’t tire of continuously playing.

Jongdae had barely concluded the current song when he noticed something at the edge of his gayageum.

He stopped playing at once, picking up the cherry blossom petal with careful fingers; witnessed its pink color fading and turning a dull gray.

Head snapping up, ice-cold fear invaded Jongdae’s chest.

The other cherry blossom petals falling followed the same fate: they lost their pink hue and transformed mid-flight, completely gray on their descent.

Perhaps he spoke too soon about the Tree of Life’s condition.

Absolutely spoke too soon when Jongdae noticed the new, glowing glyph on the Elysian Clock.

Four glyphs left unlit.

Kyungsoo would not be pleased once he knew. Jongdae already dreaded having to deliver the unfortunate news.

Bloodied bandages were unwrapped by a deft, meticulous hand. Jongin inspected the newly-healed skin of his palm; scorched flesh repaired, not a single trace of the grisly wounds. He clenched and unclenched in a tight fist several times, the absence of wincing on its transformation from human hand to demon claw pleasing as it was relieving. Scarlet flames ignited from his palm; this time, painless in his summoning.

The Head Healer shared his delight with the results. “The healing potion has done its work well, Your Highness. Your hand has been restored to optimal condition.”

“This would have been impossible if not for your help,” Jongin said. “I can now assist my brother without the interference of an injured hand. Thank you for your service, Head Healer.”

The Head Healer acknowledged his gratitude with a deep bow. “It is an honor to serve you, Your Highness. Our crew wishes nothing more than to aid you and your brother in your goals, and to assist others who require it in this turbulent period.”

Jongin slipped off from the bed and, with newfound determination, prowled the infirmary. Behind the thin white curtains scattered through the room resided a wounded soldier or civilian. Healers hurried about carrying the necessary supplies. Occasional moans and cries of pain rang out; complaints of pain from missing appendages and dislocated bones. Jongin noticed the gathering of civilian demons in one of the curtains. He took a peek; a big mistake. A healer was pulling up the sheet over a dead soldier, setting off forlorn wailing among relatives Jongin felt it in his bones. His knuckles paled from the tight grip on the curtain but forced himself to walk away, steps heavy and slow.

None of this was right.

Jongin teleported outside of the meeting room. His usual practice was teleporting inside and startling old council members—a juvenile act he’d never outgrown and amused the Demon King to no end—but now was hardly the time for spooking them.

The massive meeting room and the emptiness of the chairs flanking the long table emphasized Baekhyun’s lone presence. Baekhyun hardly acknowledged Jongin, but he didn’t doubt his presence was sensed. His chair faced the window, gaze far away, fingers tented in rumination. A slump in his shoulders; a gut-deep sigh.

Jongin stood beside Baekhyun; took a good, long look at his face. “You do not look well.”

Baekhyun graced him with a mirthless chuckle. He didn’t move, didn’t look back; eyes hardening, no doubt recalling harrowing images from the recent days. “How can I be well when our realm is on the verge of collapsing?”

Jongin sat down on the armrest and circled an arm around his shoulder; gave a comforting squeeze. “There will be a way to solve this. I believe in you and your abilities.”

“Does that include sending squad after squad of soldiers to participate in a downhill fight?” Baekhyun’s words dripped with the sharp tang of bitterness and tart regret. “Some decisions have indirectly cost lives, a burden that grows heavy with each report. A difficult truth is accepting I cannot save everyone, yet… is it too idealistic to want no casualties?”

“We are at war, brother. Or something close to it. I am not trivializing the soldiers’ deaths or disregarding their sacrifices, but collateral damage is unavoidable in a predicament of this severity.” Jongin softened his voice on the next words. “Accepting hard facts does not mean we will take this resigned. We will avenge them. All in due time. I am not implying more deaths must happen. We know who our enemies are; how they multiply, where they come from. We are doing what we can while coming up with more long-term solutions. Our soldiers are still fighting, so you must not give up, either. A preemptive surrender is more insulting.”

Baekhyun did not respond; dwelled in his thoughts, silence stretching far longer than expected from his usual demeanor of cheer and optimism. Jongin patiently sat with him, leaned close to press a cheek on top of Baekhyun’s head; looked out the window himself. Fiery, rich hues of red and orange dyed the sky in eternal twilight, his mind wandering to the events of the past nine days.

Disorder had first started breaking out in the tinier villages close to the Wasteland; now, it spread to bigger towns, decimating populations in staggering seconds. Displaced survivors had been moved to emergency facilities well-guarded with soldiers; more were deployed to patrol borders and stand watch at fortresses. Skirmishes had resulted in bloodbaths, often rooting from the Red Force outnumbering soldiers during attacks; forced withdrawals wounding their pride and morale deeper than any physical cuts and gashes. The infirmary had never taken a moment’s rest since, the number of patients coming and staying rising in number; an unfortunate few leaving the premises cold and lifeless.

Jongin had joined Baekhyun in quests to kill the Red Force alongside soldiers. They had also burnt dead trees as a countermeasure. He hadn’t imagined a time would come when the faintest scent of a camellia flower made him queasy; worsened, if mixed with the pungent smell of blood. The decrease in trees hadn’t produced the desired effect. The Red Force had continued multiplying from an unknown source; continued wreaking havoc, until the shocking discovery of camellias flourishing healthily on barren land in front of a major fortress was made. The fortress had been invaded by the Red Force in less than an hour, the report of its downfall delivered to the palace by a barely-alive messenger.

Two other fortresses had been defeated in a short course of time, following a similar fate. Baekhyun had been devastated by the loss of many lives; nearly set the palace in flames in his fury, vowing carnage on the Red Force. Jongin hadn’t strayed from his side since, aware his brother would need the support and keep him in check at his vulnerable state; decide on his behalf, if needed.

Baekhyun broke the comfortable silence by letting out a soft stream of breath. “Every day the situation worsens. Will there be no end to this? The soldiers, the population, they seek answers I cannot give. If I cannot save them from this catastrophe… it would only mean I am lacking what it takes to be the realm’s future leader.” His voice took on an uncharacteristic meekness, so seldom unheard from a figure recognized as the realm’s driving force and guiding light.

“Hush. I forbid you to go down this road of self-flagellation,” Jongin said. He leaned away to take a look at Baekhyun’s face for what he would say next. “Strong-willed princes are allowed their moments of weakness. You are doing fine compared to others who would rather take the cowardly route and save themselves. The Red Force has rendered us collectively distraught. That is undeniable. But you strive hard to give us hope in the face of this great adversity. That is worth lauding.”

Baekhyun met his gaze. Jongin noted the exhaustion beneath his eyes; a gauntness similar to someone who hadn’t fed in the last five centuries. Those were disregarded at the first hint of a smile—the most genuine he’d seen in days.

“Thank you, brother.” Rare were the times Baekhyun ran out of words, or spoke a few, but his gratitude wasn’t eclipsed by the sparseness.

Jongin smiled back. “Have you fed? You cannot fall ill at such a crucial time. What do you want? Should I cross over to the Human Realm to get your favorite pizza?”

Baekhyun let out a playful scoff, corners of his mouth turning up. “Now you choose to play the role of a sweet, dutiful little brother? Where is this enthusiasm on normal days? I will hold you to this at a later time. For now, I wish to show you something.”

Constructed as a separate building in the southernmost part of the palace, the royal archives was a wondrous place with its vaulted ceilings, massive columns with graceful but discordant lines swirling about them akin to woven threads, paintings immortalizing the monumental achievements of previous Demon Kings. Its four walls were lined with hundreds and hundreds of bookshelves, a combined tome of family history and records chronicling the Demon Realm’s rich history; the rise and fall of dynasties past. No one save for the Demon King, his family, and the royal archivist was granted access here.

Baekhyun led Jongin to the back of the archives; three shelves to the right. A table and chairs waited for them, showing signs of recent use from the scrolls spread out and books stacked haphazardly on the corner. Jongin scanned the contents of the scroll on top. The characters were written in black ink by the use of a brush, telling a story Jongin could recite through closed eyes.

“You wished to show me the Creation Myth of the Three Realms written by the first Demon King?”

“Not quite, but it is related,” Baekhyun said. “I suppose you haven’t forgotten how the myth goes?”

Jongin couldn’t help snorting. “How can I when the tutors made sure I knew of the sacred text word per word; the assorted variations it had been taught to demon children? Do you wish me to recite it stanza per stanza like a poem, or sing it to you like a ballad?”

Rifling through the other unrolled scrolls further confirmed these were Old World Scripts. Deemed as the most authentic and complete record of the Creation Myth, it told of a story about Mama, almighty creator of everything in existence, giving birth to the world when the loneliness became unbearable. This world Mama filled with a variety of life forms, the three most prominent being gods, demons, humans. The gods were designed after Mama’s dreams of light and purity; the demons, crafted from darkness and the solitude of a solitary existence. The humans were created in the likeliness of Mama and bore the closest resemblance, sans special abilities. Mama might not have created these three beings in equal standing but wished for a peaceful coexistence in a common space.

It worked, for a limited time. The harmonious co-existence ended from the unending growth of greed within humans, wanting the world for themselves. They shunned the gods, chased away the demons. The gods didn’t take the ostracism lightly; punished the humans who dared defy them. The demons preferred watching the gods and humans kill each other from the sidelines. Some demons urged humans to carry out evil deeds against the gods. A sly move, one planned from the start: if the gods and humans were busy eliminating each of their kind, they could swoop in and seize control over the world while both were unsuspecting.

For thirty days and thirty nights the world was thrown into chaos, until Mama interfered and created two other realms: one where gods would dwell, the other for demons to reign. The humans stayed in the original world, and Mama separated all three realms so they would not overlap. An ideal solution, at first; but humans further became divided as they took sides on who to worship. Most chose the gods, willing to overlook the way they had been punished and used before. The stronger their faith, the more divine energy was produced, contributing to the flourishing of the Holy Realm. A certain faction worshipped demons, converting lost souls into joining them; by force, at times. Infernal energy powered the Demon Realm, leeching off their believers’ dark sides. 

Baekhyun hummed in satisfaction at Jongin’s recounting. “Your tutors’ efforts have not been for naught.”

“Yet I remain lost on the purpose of this impromptu lesson.”

“Something happens after.”

Jongin took a moment to recollect. “The tree. Mama gave us the Tree of Discord to raise and protect.”

The overabundance of divine and infernal energies flowing in the realms ran rampant, causing an imbalance in powers among gods and demons. Internal strife led to mutinies, the cold-blooded killing of their own for the selfish desire to keep the power to themselves; lord over the realms. Soon it spilled onto the Human Realm in the generous granting of wishes and answering prayers—if a human’s belief was strong, an increase in energy was guaranteed, and the god or demon became more powerful.

Tired of their follies, Mama appointed an overlord for each realm. The Almighty and the Demon King were subordinates whom the gods and demons, respectively, should acknowledge and revere as they would Mama. To the first Demon King Mama bestowed the sapling of what eventually would become the Tree of Discord: pillar of the Demon Realm, main source of infernal energy. To ensure the whole Demon Realm would benefit and prevent potential monopoly, Mama bestowed the Tree of Discord a conscious of its own to search and choose its rightful Guardian.

“And the tree has chosen you,” Baekhyun said, smiling proudly. “I remember that day well.”

Jongin had heard of the story countless times. On the day he was due, the firmament had bled a red so deep from the moment their mother’s labor started until he came into the realm wailing loud and shrill. A sigil of a fully-bloomed camellia flower had soon appeared on his forehead, fading upon his first encounter with the Tree of Discord. A curious toddler at the time, Jongin had followed the scent of camellias; waddled his way into the shrine. Curiosity had led him to crawl under the enchanted ropes barricading insolent trespassers; patted the trunk and played in its midst without fear. The innocent contact had triggered the creation of the link, only coming to light when Jongin complained of hearing a voice in his head and the spread of warmth behind his ribs; the scarlet flames bursting forth from tiny fists instead of the expected blue among royals, drowning a barren landscape in a sea of fire.

Subsequent years growing up and growing into the Guardian role had shown Jongin his responsibilities: overseeing the Tree of Discord’s growth, protecting it from harm and exploitation, providing infernal energy in the rare case of depletion or keeping it contained within its roots should there be excess. Jongin hadn’t ceased to feel the free-flowing energy in his system since the link’s establishment, and he seldom tapped into it, seeing no need to enhance his powers for simple Harvest Moon hunts.

“The Tree of Discord symbolizes darkness. It is the source of fear and chaos; death and despair,” Baekhyun continued, after the brief trip down their memories. He carefully swapped the scrolls around until he found what he was looking for. Jongin inspected the painted illustrations of two trees. One was unmistakably the Tree of Discord with the camellias on its branches, an ominous aura about it even as a drawing. The other tree shared a similar height and build but its flowers were a soft pink, dainty and bright, inciting a zestful energy from a single glance. Baekhyun tapped a finger at this tree. “And this one?”

“The Tree of Life,” Jongin answered.

The Tree of Life. The twin and mirror of the Tree of Discord. Assigned as the pillar of the Holy Realm and fortified it with divine energy, it became the symbol of light; the source of hope and peace, life and happiness.

With good came evil; with light came dark. Two prime elements of the universe since time immemorial. From them, Mama conceived the Twin Trees, destined to exist at the same time and balance each other out so one wasn’t more powerful than the other. Together, they worked to maintain the equilibrium of the Human Realm while keeping their respective territories intact.

Jongin looked over the illustration in the prolonged silence. “You are implying something is amiss with the Tree of Life,” he said, slowly. His didn’t pose it as a question.

“Think about it, brother,” Baekhyun said. “Supposing the Tree of Life is fine, then why is the Tree of Discord infecting innocent, harmless trees? Thriving from it? Its scope shouldn’t have reached the Human Realm, and its flowers should not be giving birth to the Red Force.”

“Suppose you are right. Why hasn’t the tree given me a warning, then? We are connected. I would know first of its strange behaviors.”

Baekhyun traced the outline of the trees using a finger. “I have discussed with the council members. One proposed the tree might have concealed what it’s doing from you on purpose. Remember, you might share a link, but it is not entirely dependent on you. The tree has a will of its own, and can do as it pleases with or without your awareness or permission. Another member pitched quite the curious theory.” He pulled out the fourth book from the top of the stack, opened it to a bookmarked page, and slid it toward Jongin.

More records from an age long gone. The current chapter spoke of the time when light and dark were at a constant, never-ending battle; divine and infernal energies unbridled and free to be used by gods and demons while they could before the newly-created Twin Trees took action. This was the time when the Human Realm was ridden with war and famine, disease and hunger; in turn, an overproduction of infernal energy. Although they were created at the same time, the Tree of Discord absorbed the infernal energy and matured too fast. The Tree of Life struggled from the meager divine energy, for humans had little to no hope in a brighter future and lived every day in agony. Uneven in growth and powers, like a tipped scale, the Tree of Life began wasting away. The Tree of Discord, overwhelmed by the infernal energy, began regurgitating what it couldn’t digest through unexpected outlets.

“The Red Force.” Jongin’s words came out in a breathless gasp. “Infecting trees in and out of the realm, camellias blooming in the most impossible of places, demons unknown and eating anything with a pulse… so this has happened before.”

“And it seems to be happening again.” Baekhyun’s grave expression was enough confirmation. “If you read further in the records, the birth of its first Guardian salvaged the Tree of Life and tamed the Tree of Discord’s fits. A long, arduous process, it seemed: Guardians that came after the first continued where the last one left off until the Tree of Life matured and became equally as powerful as its twin. Wars and other unfortunate happenings gradually ceased and saved the Human Realm from total destruction. Infected trees were purified, and the Red Force was defeated by the joint effort of gods and demons.”

Jongin read the entries and stayed quiet for several long moments.

“Your hand has completely healed.” Baekhyun’s casual observation broke the silence.

Jongin held up said hand; wriggled his fingers. “Good as new. I can aid you better in combat, now. The wounds were cumbersome, and cutting through demon flesh with a damaged hand was more a source of pain than joy.”

Memories of blue light and raw, savage pain played briefly in his mind. Sehun’s enchanted bracelet had reduced his hand to a bloody, disfigured mess of burnt, peeling flesh showing bits of bone, and it had shocked Jongin that his regenerative ability wasn’t mending the wounds. He fled to the Demon Realm after escaping; had entertained the thought of chopping off his hand and growing out a new one in the worst case scenario. Fortunately, he needn’t sort to drastic measures—the Head Healer had taken one look and immediately administered the required remedy.

“The Head Healer told me something interesting about your wound,” Baekhyun said. “Your burns apparently looked like it had been caused by an ancient spell meant to fend off demons of all ranks. An ancient spell only a god is capable of casting.”

There hadn’t been many chances to talk with the current affairs taking utmost precedence. Baekhyun had seen the bandage and wished him a speedy recovery; didn’t ask more questions, nosiness suddenly nowhere to be found. His waiting gaze was an invitation for an honest talk, and Jongin saw no reason to stall any longer. He told him of an enchanted item causing his injury, the startling amount of divine energy he’d been exposed to; the Tree of Discord’s dissatisfaction and releasing its own powers in its defense. The clash and inevitable explosion afterward, obliterating buildings within a mile radius, Privé unfortunately included. Baekhyun tapped his fingers on the table as he listened and nodded in the right places, the beat of his nails on the wood slightly echoing in the archives. 

“I am not sure why an ordinary human passing himself off as a warlock would have an item from a god, unless they have a direct connection or highly favored,” Jongin said, wrapping up his account.

“What you should be asking is why an ordinary human would carry a bracelet of that caliber in the first place.”

A long, silent moment stretched out.

“I never specified what kind of item it was.” Suspicions swirled in Jongin’s mind. “How did you know it was a bracelet?”

Baekhyun looked unfazed as he leaned back in his chair. “I know a lot of things, Jongin. The question is if you’re ready to know. I am not sure what you’ll make of them, or how you’ll react, but it will come to light, eventually.”

Jongin didn’t like the sound of that. “Why not tell me now?”

“Knowledge is a powerful weapon. Powerful, and lethal. Knowledge can either empower you or destroy you. I do not underestimate the strength of your will, but there is too much at stake, and I would rather not worsen the anger of certain beings.”

Jongin was about to protest when a knock on the door stole the moment. A soldier was politely requesting an audience with them. They traded knowing glances and walked out together. “What do you propose we do with the Red Force’s return? They are increasing in numbers; clearly, we cannot handle them on our own, now, and it would be reckless to further involve the Human Realm in this precarious situation.”

“We do precisely what no one predicted happening again in the past millenium.” Baekhyun looked and sounded nothing like his teasing sibling or cryptic self from seconds ago. The demon beside Jongin now walked with his back ramrod straight, shoulders squared, head held high; the regal air about him more pronounced. Commanding. The mischievous curve of his lips matched his serious tone. “We knock on the Holy Realm’s doors.”

His tea had long gone cold, but Kyungsoo didn’t care and drank it in one gulp. He reached for a slice of _kimbap_, but not even the harmony of flavors that usually brought him joy with every bite could raise his spirits.

Food did not play a vital part in a god’s life, but Kyungsoo showed genuine interest in human cuisine after tasting the many dishes offered by the realm. His fascination wouldn’t have ignited if not for Sehun needing sustenance three times a day growing up, sometimes more, emphasizing the stark difference of their realities. God could forego eating for years without consequence. Sehun would only last roughly around forty days before passing from starvation in his current form.

Sehun, who lay in a deep, deep slumber on the spread-out mattress on the floor, but certainly not from starvation. His peaceful, sleeping face was a big contrast to the deathly paleness of his complexion. The rise and fall of Sehun’s chest was almost indiscernible on the first few nights. Kyungsoo had to take a closer look each time to check it was still moving. He could never be too complacent in these cases. Not after the first time.

Healing runes were strategically placed around the mattress, encasing Sehun’s immobile form in a transparent barrier meant to cure physical wounds and restore his near-gone divine energy. Sehun’s body was reacting positively, so far, though it remained to be seen when he would wake.

Kyungsoo fixed Sehun’s blanket; caught a glimpse of the bracelet around his right wrist. The strings were newly-mended, spell redone for double protection. When Kyungsoo had found him after sensing the abnormal surge of divine energy in the Human Realm, Sehun was unconscious and barely breathing in a crater surrounded by decimated buildings in the busier part of the city. The broken bracelet lay not far from Sehun, the silver charm glowing in irregular bursts of blue light. Kyungsoo had spied purpling imprints of fingers around Sehun’s neck; caught the whiff of what was unmistakably camellia from his limp form.

The mere remembrance sent him into an instantaneous blood-boiling anger. May Mama bless him with copious mental fortitude to not storm into the Demon Realm and induce a rampage that could tear the place apart and also strip him of his godly rights.

Kyungsoo reached for another kimbap slice. His thoughts wandered to the burning question he’d been ruminating over for the past nine nights. What could Sehun have encountered that pushed him to the point of desperation he needed to take off his bracelet?

Distantly, Kyungsoo heard the trees in the backyard stir; straightened up at the sparks of energy flaring into existence in the courtyard. One was familiar. The second was, too, but more unwelcome. Vivi, who had been sleeping at the corner of Sehun’s rooms, immediately woke up and darted out, barking furiously. Kyungsoo refused to stray from Sehun’s side, wanting to be present when he opened his eyes, but the new presences required his attention. A suspicion they wouldn’t leave until he faced them niggled at the back of his mind.

Casting one last look at Sehun, Kyungsoo picked up his sword and set out.

In the courtyard stood two figures waiting. One was an attendant serving in Jongdae’s estate, periwinkle hanbok giving her away. The other was not who Kyungsoo expected, but explained the dubious presence. The infernal energy.

At his full height, the demon stood up to the attendant’s waist. Green skin, pointed nose, equally pointed ears, wizened face, gnarly hands with long, sharp nails. The steel gray robes told of his council member status. The demon was most probably sent on official duty, although it puzzled Kyungsoo how they located his house and why he needed to entertain them in the Human Realm.

“What is your business here?” Kyungsoo asked.

The attendant bowed in respect. “Lord Jongdae has sent me to guide Lord Chaemoo to your whereabouts. It is one of the Almighty’s orders, he said.”

“The lady does not lie,” Lord Chaemoo confirmed, stepping forward but did not bow to Kyungsoo. Demons only bowed to three beings. “I was sent by the Crown Prince on his behalf to invite discussion on the current state of affairs across the Three Realms. The Almighty granted me an audience and, together with the other gods, agreed you are the best candidate for the task.”

Kyungsoo frowned. An assembly was held without his knowledge? He couldn’t think of a reason why they would exclude him on purpose. Announcements had always been made prior to assemblies. “I am no diplomat.”

“I have no way to ascertain the truth of that statement, but you are a skilled tactician, which is beneficial to the discussions,” Lord Chaemoo said. Kyungsoo couldn’t have frowned any harder if he tried. The action was not missed. “The Crown Prince mentioned you might be hesitant in agreeing. He directed me to pass on the message that a big portion of discussions would require battle strategies—one area of expertise by the God of War, he said.”

Kyungsoo gripped his sword tighter; bit back an acerbic laugh. That demon always reveled in progressing one step ahead of everyone.

Lord Chaemoo clapped twice. In the vacant space of the courtyard, a large, horseless carriage materialized. Kyungsoo glared at the single blue flame hovering mid-air in front of it, burning hot and bright.

“The Crown Prince has especially prepared this carriage for a smooth-sailing journey. The blue flame follows his strict command and will ensure nothing happens on our travels,” Lord Chaemoo said.

The attendant approached Kyungsoo and kneeled before him with her head bowed. In her outstretched hands was a canteen made of cow skin. “Lord Jongdae has prepared the Draught of Preservation for your journey to the Demon Realm.”

Kyungsoo gave the canteen a withering look. Jongdae’s feline-like grin was conjured unprompted in his mind; juvenile laughter echoing in his ears while giving him a knowing look inciting a sigh in fond resignation. He wasn’t sure what possessed Jongdae to concoct the draught in the assumption he would comply so easily, if at all. He would thank him for the draught on their next meeting, and maybe sneak in a punch or two to better express his gratitude.

Kyungsoo accepted the canteen and thanked the attendant. He looked at Lord Chaemoo. “When do we leave?"

"Now is a better time than later." Lord Chaemoo’s tone didn’t leave room for bargaining or argument.

“Very well.” The sooner Kyungsoo was done with this task, the faster he could return to watch over Sehun.

Kyungsoo returned to Sehun’s room. Nothing changed in the span of time spent at the courtyard. He cast a strong protection spell in and out the room; another for the entire household. He knelt on one knee and told Vivi to keep close watch on Sehun while he was away. Vivi barked in agreement, tail wagging, and accepted Kyungsoo’s pats to his head. On his return outside, the attendant and Lord Chaemoo were still there. The attendant took her leave in a flurry of orange blossom petals. Holding the canteen tight in one hand, the other resting on the hilt of his sword, Kyungsoo boarded the carriage, followed by Lord Chaemoo.

Kyungsoo felt rather than saw the carriage slowly descend off the ground and soar into the sky. It felt strange, riding this contraption. Kyungsoo wasn’t used to such modes of transportation, often relying on shooting stars to cross over to the Human Realm and vice versa; horses and other beasts, seldom. He wouldn’t put it past the Crown Prince to play the role of an accommodating host in the face of diplomacy, or rack up points to get on the good graces of the gods as part of a tactical move to improve relations between realms.

The journey lulled Kyungsoo into a nap at one point. When he opened his eyes, Lord Chaemoo, who sat across of him, was snoring in his sleep. The carriage had grown considerably warm since their departure. His hat felt stuffy on his head, but Kyungsoo held in the urge to take it off. The sudden heat was a sign they were close; any second now, and they would arrive.

Lord Chaemoo woke up after choking on his saliva. He righted himself, used the edge of his sleeve to dab at the corners of his mouth, and cleared his throat. He peeked outside the curtain of the tiny carriage window and smiled. “Our arrival is imminent, Lord Kyungsoo. I advise drinking the draught now.”

Kyungsoo opened the canteen. A honeyed aroma of fruits wafted from its mouth; tasted five different kinds on his tongue when he drank. The Draught of Preservation would help him retain his powers during his stay in the Demon Realm, but its effects would only last for an entire day. He doubted the discussion would take that long. He could fight well, but if his presence was made known after draught’s effects waned, he doubted he could last if outnumbered.

The carriage switched to a slower speed; started descending low, lower. Stopped moving entirely upon touching solid ground.

“We have arrived,” Lord Chaemoo announced. He opened the door and gestured for Kyungsoo to step out first. “Please, after you.”

Kyungsoo climbed out of the carriage. The humidity of the Demon Realm greeted him in waves at once. Above, skies dyed in blazing red and orange, giving no indication if it was day or night. Around him, barren landscapes stretching out, not a single plant or flower in sight. The blue flame flickered with life, catching Kyungsoo’s attention, and floated forward—a silent instruction to follow. They crossed a foot bridge, Kyungsoo adjusting to the heat faster than expected. From a distance, the palace stood stark and tall against the fiery sky.

The castle gates swung open slowly as they approached. Two demon guards looked to be waiting for them, bulky builds struggling against the confines of their heavy armor. The guards let the blue flame and Lord Chaemoo pass through them first, then flanked Kyungsoo as they crossed the courtyard, passed through the grand foyer, and down the massive hallway leading to the throne room. The air was cooler in the palace premises, Kyungsoo noted, as he looked around the massive, torch-lit hallway; the hung portraits of the previous Demon King and his descendants on the walls.

They stopped in front of a pair of gigantic doors made of polished obsidian. Lord Chaemoo knocked twice, the sound echoing in the hallway.

“Your Highness, it is I, Chaemoo; the council member you have sent to the Holy Realm,” he called out. “I would like to request an audience with you.”

The doors creaked open and closed behind them. The guards did not follow inside. Kyungsoo took one cautious step after another, taking in the towering domed ceiling; the chandeliers hanging off it rimmed with a thousand candles. Crimson arches and pillars surrounded the room. A still life version of the Elysian Clock was painted on the mosaic floor, nine glyphs aglow. A banner hung above the throne, the carmine and gold emblem depicting the Tree of Discord.

On the throne itself sat a figure clad in black. Tousled ash gray hair, fangs gleaming in a toothy grin of welcome, charming air about him nothing more than a ruse to conceal the lethal grace beneath the façade. The horns and tail were missing, human ears adorned with silver chain earrings. He raised his hand, palm upward. The blue flame blurred out of sight and appeared hovering atop his palm; extinguished it by making a crushing gesture.

The Crown Prince. Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo held his head high, grip on his sword unfaltering as he ventured further inside; closer. Lord Chaemoo stopped twenty paces from the dais; knelt in a show of absolute subservience. Kyungsoo remained standing two steps behind him.

“I see that you have traveled and arrived safely. That is good," Baekhyun addressed Kyungsoo . He gazed at him for a moment before it slid toward Lord Chaemoo. “You have done a good job. I had thought the God of War would put up a fight or show stubborn resistance about coming here. I am surprised you were able to convince him.”

Lord Chaemoo lowered his head a little more. “It would be a disgrace to come back empty-handed when you have entrusted this task to me, Your Highness. The highest treason I do not dare commit. It was not difficult to convince the God of War to embark on this journey. He was surprisingly cooperative at first, if not hesitant, when I mentioned your concerns.”

Kyungsoo held himself back from slapping Lord Chaewoo upside the head. That was _not_ information meant to be shared to anyone, most of all Baekhyun.

“You don’t say,” Baekhyun drawled, eyes back on Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo met his stare, refusing to back down. “You have done well, Lord Chaemoo. I still regret I could not have done it myself, but the current state of our realm does not allow me to be away for a long time. It is no simple feat to go to the Holy Realm and ask for an audience at the risk of being turned away. Your achievement will be rewarded accordingly.”

“I thank you, Your Highness. You are most generous.”

Upon Lord Chaemoo’s dismissal, the ensuing silence stretched far longer than Kyungsoo would have liked. He didn’t let his guard down; hand never too far from his sword.

Baekhyun didn’t move an inch from where he sat, fingers tapping on the armrest as he hummed. “Rest easy, Lord Kyungsoo. There will be no need to engage in combat during the discussion. No one will dare attack you for as long as you are in my company. I swear on it.”

Kyungsoo did not relinquish his wariness, though his fingers uncurled one by one around the hilt. “One wrong move, Crown Prince,” he said. “One wrong move, or any funny business, and I will draw my blade not even Mama can stop me or save you.”

Baekhyun’s responding smile was unnerving. Kyungsoo blinked, and for a fleeting moment, he thought it looked wistful. Scoffed at himself after. There was no reason for that. “I am still impressed you came here of your own volition, and that you did not need much coaxing.”

“Do not flatter yourself, Crown Prince. I agreed to come here in the name of official duty because the other gods remain stubbornly incompetent and refuse to volunteer.”

“Ah, but this also tells me something.” Baekhyun propped his arm on the armrest, temple resting against his curled fist. “Usually, you gods are so uptight about letting demons into your realm. The easy acquiescence to Lord Chaemoo’s request is not only surprising, but indicative of the recent happenings in the Three Realms.”

Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes in deep suspicion. “What are you getting at?”

“So I was right.” Baekhyun sounded smug, and Kyungsoo would’ve loathed the tone if his curiosity wasn’t stronger. “I take it even if you are kept busy with realm affairs and responsibilities, you are aware something ominous is happening in the Human Realm. You must’ve heard about the countless murders leaving behind no bodies. Of monsters slowly invading, feasting on flesh and blood. We have taken to calling them the Red Force.”

“_I_ have taken to calling them filthy bloodsuckers.”

Baekhyun threw his head back in boisterous laughter. He looked thoroughly pleased after calming down. “Good that you are aware. This discussion will move faster, then. It has come to my knowledge that you’ve been on patrol disposing the Red Force. I will not ask why, although I can guess you are answering the humans’ prayers of someone saving them from these demons.”

“If you asked me to come all the way here to order me to stay away from your business, you are sorely mistaken. I will continue disposing of the Red Force until they are no longer terrorizing the humans. Perhaps you should tell your Guardian to tame the Tree of Discord since it’s becoming unruly and spreading its infection to innocent trees. Is it not his duty to tame the tree? What has he been doing all this time?” Kyungsoo’s voice rose in a frustrated shout.

“I can say the same about the Tree of Life and its Guardian, too.” Baekhyun was no longer smiling, playfulness and mirth gone. “Something is happening to the Tree of Life, Lord Kyungsoo. You cannot lie to me about that. I am aware sustaining it through other means is possible; but something has to have gone terribly wrong in the process because the Tree of Discord hasn’t stopped giving life to the Red Force.”

“We are doing our best to sustain the Tree of Life while it waits for its Guardian,” Kyungsoo chose to answer, after paring down his options.

“It does not seem like your methods are working if the Tree of Discord is continuously going haywire. If the Red Force is becoming stronger as each day passes.”

“The God of Music is working hard to give the divine energy the Tree of Life requires. Progress is slow since he is not comparable to its Guardian, but it is working.”

“But not working fast enough if the infection is spreading to the Human Realm.” Baekhyun’s eyes narrowed. A tense silence ensued, only broken by his next question. “Tell me honestly, Lord Kyungsoo. What is truly happening to the Tree of Life? Or, should I reframe my question? Very well—what is happening to its Guardian, if the tree is doing relatively well, as you claimed? I would take my time prying the answers out of you, but every second we spend hurling combative opinions at each other counts. The Red Force is out there unleashing havoc in my realm as we speak. The soldiers are doing their best to eliminate them, even at the cost of their own lives. I do not want their deaths and sacrifices to go in vain.

“What will it be, God of War?” Baekhyun challenged in a frosty tone. “Do we waste our breath speaking in riddles, or do we set aside our mutual antagonism and cooperate in search of a solution to save the realms?”

Kyungsoo pressed his lips tightly together. Combed through his tangled thoughts and picked a starting point.

“The Tree of Life was doing fine before my brother exhausted his divine energy and slipped into a coma.”

Baekhyun’s features softened a little, or perhaps the exhaustion was affecting Kyungsoo’s eyesight.

“Time and again I reminded Sehun never to remove the bracelet. Now that he has… I am sure he has seen something. I don’t know. I won’t know until he wakes up.”

“He would have to remember someday,” Baekhyun said. “You cannot keep him in a glass case and protect him from the truth. Even if it is a painful one.”

“I know that,” Kyungsoo snapped, regret following too fast for his liking. “I understand that. If I had my way, I would never let him remember. He doesn’t need to if it means he will be happier and pain-free.”

“A century has passed yet we still have opposing views on the matter.” Baekhyun exhaled, looking a tad amused. “If he has seen something, the probability that my seal has broken—if not cracked—is high.”

Icy dread slithered down Kyungsoo’s spine. “Did you just say what I thought I heard?” he asked, slowly.

Baekhyun’s lips stretched into a knowing smile. The indirect affirmation Kyungsoo wanted but loathed. “We are derailing, Lord Kyungsoo. You can get angry to your heart’s desire at a later time, and to the right party. For now, we talk of more important matters. The Guardians’ well-being is always directly linked to the trees. If your tree is doing its best to survive, why does ours continue going wild?”

Images of a lifeless Sehun alone in bed flashed and lingered in Kyungsoo’s mind, weighing his chest down with bitter guilt and helplessness. Begrudgingly, he let the truth slip out, solidifying the reality he refused to face in the secret fear it might become unchangeable in the future.

“The Tree of Life is dying, Crown Prince.” The words left Kyungsoo’s lips with surprising ease. “The Tree of Life is dying a slow death as it waits for Sehun to ascend and regain his powers and status. It explains why the Tree of Discord is becoming too powerful, and indirectly killing the Tree of Life. This does not bode well, as you know, for Sehun needs the Fruit of Godhood. But with the Tree of Life’s current state…”

_We are all inevitably doomed_ was the loud, unvoiced continuation of where Kyungsoo trailed off on purpose.

The downward curve of Baekhyun’s mouth looked sterner, marring his features and enhanced by the light coming from the candles.

“For once, I had hoped my deduction would be wrong.”

“The tree’s flowers turned gray shortly after Sehun fell into his deep slumber,” Kyungsoo said, voice not moving away from its initial solemnity. “Our methods, they once worked despite the glacial progression. Now, it is only delaying symptoms of a worsened state. If Sehun does not ascend as soon as possible, the Tree of Life will cease to exist. Sehun will follow by the rapid deterioration of his health. The order does not matter. Losing both will overpower the Tree of Discord, and the Red Force will invade the Three Realms.”

“You sound resigned, and hopeless. None of that,” Baekhyun chided. “I will allow no scoundrels to roam free in this realm. I am sure you share the same sentiment about the Human Realm, and yours.”

“I have long stopped caring for the Holy Realm. I only care about my brother and his well-being. You have my agreement on stopping the Red Force. Bigger catastrophes await if they are not finished.”

“I have asked him many times, but my brother maintains he does not sense anything amiss with the Tree of Discord. I trust his word; the tree, not in the slightest. We cannot stand around waiting for a miracle. We need to take immediate action before the problem gets worse. That is where you come in, the aim of this discussion.”

“You seek an alliance,” Kyungsoo stated.

“I seek to build an army that will suppress the Red Force, yes. I do not mean immediate integration of the divine army and my soldiers. We will gradually let our soldiers mingle and work together in the Human Realm. Soldiers from your side will not survive an entire day here, so we will need to find a workaround for that.”

“And what of internal conflict? You cannot deny there might be a clash in viewpoints,” Kyungsoo pointed out. “I refuse to act as a nursemaid to any entitled soldier during a serious mission.”

Gods had never moved past their heavy prejudice against demons, and vice versa. Boasting about who was more powerful, more influential, never-ending arguments over the pettiest matters. Kyungsoo couldn’t guarantee his soldiers would readily agree to help demons, and he was certain those who served under Baekhyun would rather be disemboweled than join forces with a god; but the situation they were currently facing did not leave much choice.

“I might not be able to sway their instilled and outdated beliefs on gods, but my soldiers will do anything to bring glory to the realm. They will not dare to go against my wishes,” Baekhyun said. “As early as now, I will guarantee my soldiers will not harm yours, toy with them, or suck their souls. If you are skeptical, we can draw a contract.”

Kyungsoo considered the idea. A contract was solid proof of their terms and stipulations, but he knew better than to enter into one with a demon.

Baekhyun’s laughter startled him, the sound reverberating in the room. “Oh, please. It’s the lesser demons who do that in order to continue living. I needn’t sort to such juvenile methods. I am offended you would think I’d cheat you on a contract, though.”

The last part was said in jest. Despite himself, Kyungsoo answered him with a tiny smile. It felt strange. Unusual, like his facial muscles weren’t used to the gesture anymore. Hardly anything was worth smiling over recently.

“I am also quite offended you came at the behest of a council member on the first try.” Baekhyun retained his teasing tone, but his words were underscored with something else. Something Kyungsoo could define but refused to name. “I sent you invitations in the past. You never answered them. Must I sort to a messenger for you to come?”

“This is for diplomatic ventures. This is different.”

Baekhyun’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “So you would only respond to my invitations if the realms were under grave threat? Not if I was ill and confined to bed, yearning for the company my brother and loyal subjects cannot provide?”

Kyungsoo saw through the obvious bait; didn’t take it. He refused. “If there is nothing more to discuss, I shall take my leave. We can start on strategizing the next day, if you wish. I cannot promise frequent visits since you know of my current predicament, but I vow to oversee this as much as I’m able.”

Baekhyun clucked his tongue, expression similar to a rejected puppy. “So cold. Where has the old Kyungsoo gone, the one who never failed to heed my requests as long as I sent the blue flame?”

“That Kyungsoo no longer exists.” Kyungsoo surprised himself with how calm he sounded, even as certain, unsavory memories played in his mind.

He never heard Baekhyun’s reply for a knock on the door and its creaking open interrupted him. Footsteps. A new presence. Familiar, in a way Kyungsoo wished it wasn’t.

Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes as he watched the newcomer stride across the room with a confident gait. Shimmering blond hair it looked almost white under the candle glow. The curled horns on his head and the tail that followed his steps did not take away from his breathtaking features and complemented them. Though barefoot, his footsteps seemed to echo, demanding attention of everyone inside; burgundy robe rustling with every movement.

More than a millenium had passed since Kyungsoo last saw his him, but Jongin still exuded an elegance and allure unmatched in the Demon Realm. Beyond.

Kyungsoo meant to excuse himself, but his eyes wandered to Jongin’s arms, his hands. An idea formed, itching execution.

In one fluid movement, Kyungsoo grabbed his sheathed sword and aimed for Jongin’s neck.

The scabbard hardly touched its target, instead striking the palm of Jongin’s now demon claw.

“What in the—” Jongin’s brows furrowed, finally taking notice of Kyungsoo. He shoved the scabbard aside like a bothersome insect. “Who are you? How dare you draw your weapon against a prince?”

“Now, now, Prince Jongin,” Baekhyun spoke in a pacifying tone. He rose from the throne. “That is in no way to talk to a guest I have personally invited.”

“Guest?” The pucker on his brow smoothened gradually as Jongin came to a realization. “I overheard palace attendants gossiping about an outsider who reeked”—he somewhat had the decency to look embarrassed when he said the word—“of something not from here. I did not know it was your guest.”

“Now you know, and you will watch how you act yourself around him,” Baekhyun chided gently, descending from the dais. “Prince Jongin, allow me to introduce Lord Kyungsoo, the God of War. I solicited his help to aid us in our battle against the Red Force.”

Jongin face lit up in surprise, but propriety must’ve won over petty anger as he nodded his head in acknowledgment.

Kyungsoo slung the scabbard to his side and, in an act that surprised both royals, dipped his head to Jongin. “The palace attendants speak of the truth. I am not from here. I would like to offer an apology for my insolent actions, Prince Jongin. It is unfortunate our meeting played out like this. Do have my word that I did not do it out of malice, or wish to inflict harm.”

Jongin looked peeved again at the mention of what transpired earlier but gave way to understanding. “Apology accepted. I will overlook your actions since you are sincere. For what it’s worth, I did not think you were a serious threat. Nothing about your aura points to that. You would not have walked out of this palace alive if you were. So, indulge me, Lord Kyungsoo: what was the purpose of the… attack?”

Kyungsoo caught the formation of a gleeful grin on Baekhyun’s face from peripheral vision, his eyes gleaming in anticipation. This demon bastard. If he wanted a show, he would give him one.

“I simply wanted to ascertain something by taking a close look at your fingers. Claws.”

Jongin jerked back in genuine surprise. Examined his human hands; demon claws next. “Surely you could have just requested that from me instead of springing an attack?”

“My bad, Prince Jongin, perhaps I was too excited by the prospect that I couldn’t contain myself.” Kyungsoo’s hand found its way to the hilt of his sword, gripping tight. “I have seen imprints on the neck of someone I know. The length and width of those fingers surprisingly matches your claws. The bruises tell me there was an intention to hurt, if not kill.” Kyungsoo listed his head ever so slightly, pinning Jongin with an icy stare. “Tell me, Prince Jongin. What has Sehun done to you to warrant such actions against him?”

Kyungsoo watched the array of emotions play out on Jongin’s face the longer he spoke: from confusion, to recognition, and then the dawning realization registering in his eyes.

“Sehun? How do you know him?”

“How I know him is none of your business.” Kyungsoo maintained his frigid tone that could’ve frozen oceans and seas. “What’s done is done. I am warning you, Prince Jongin, and heed this seriously. If you so much as come near Sehun again, I cannot guarantee my sword will remain in its scabbard.” He turned to Baekhyun and bowed, albeit stiffly. “Our discussion has long ended, and I have overstayed. I will return should you require my presence. I shall take my leave now.”

Kyungsoo whirled around but hadn’t taken advanced three steps before Jongin caught him by the shoulder.

“What is your relation with Sehun? You are a god, and he is… I do not believe he is a normal human with borrowed powers. Even if he did, he wouldn’t be powerful enough to purify the Tree of Discord—”

“Enough!”

Kyungsoo grabbed the hilt of his sword and drew it to silence Jongin—

—but Baekhyun emerged beside him, forcing the sword back down by the pommel with unsurprising strength. Kyungsoo struggled against his hold. Baekhyun stood firm and pushed it down with more force. Jongin had been pushed aside, watching the exchange with wide eyes.

“I do not condone what my brother has done. Apart from that isolated incident, I meant what I said back then; and I stand firm with it at present. Your blade shall not fall on him.” Baekhyun’s eyes blazed with subdued anger, his fingers twitching with an urge to call forth his flames.

Tense silence settled in the throne room, and Kyungsoo’s pulse was the only thing he could hear in his ears. Baekhyun’s watchful gaze never left him until his arm fell limp at his side.

Baekhyun stepped away until a polite distance existed between them.

On the carriage ride back to the Human Realm, Kyungsoo’s mind fixated on a specific part of Jongin’s revelation. Mirthless laughter escaped him. Of all possibilities, he didn’t think Sehun would be reckless enough to purify the Tree of Discord. Perhaps in full godhood that was possible. As he was, it was courting death. Kyungsoo now had his answer to the almost nonexistent amount of divine energy in Sehun’s body when he found him.

Jongin’s seeming familiarity with Sehun led Kyungsoo to believe they’d known of each other’s existences for some time now. This detail troubled him more than he would like to admit. He did not entirely deny the possibility of their paths never crossing again; though if the Almighty agreed to let him have his way, Kyungsoo would wish they stayed unaware of each other. What they shared. Were. Yet gods, in spite of their possession of powers, were in no position to dictate how one’s path should go. The Thread Spinners would not allow it. 

_“You cannot keep him in a glass case and protect him from the truth. Even if it is a painful one.”_

Kyungsoo closed his eyes; leaned back in his seat, prayed for sleep to take mercy on him. Prayed this long, persistent nightmare would finally come to an end.

Jongin started losing track of his visits after the third time.

Foolishness did not begin to describe his loitering in front of the weathered gates that would never grant him access to the hanok beyond it. The nondescript residence resembled the other houses in the neighborhood, albeit older in architecture and, in Jongin’s opinion, needed a new paint job. A perfect hideaway for a god who spent plenty of time in the Human Realm. Jongin could’ve infiltrated it on his first visit if not for the strong, protective enchantment surrounding the house. He learned the hard way when he inspect the property and tried teleporting inside, only to have a barrier fling him away. An oversight on his part, he would admit, but not entirely his fault. The barrier was one not easily sensed by demons, only meant to be felt at the last unfortunate second of impact. The minor burns he acquired from a second attempt would attest to that, which his healing ability easily healed.

Jongin’s next visits did not bear fruit. The barrier would never grant him entry; to force his way in would be catastrophic. No enchantment of this strength would be fortified around a house if it wasn’t trying to keep something out _or_ protect someone inside. The suspicion niggled and frustrated him; no workarounds coming to mind. He should’ve given up, but the desire to get inside was stronger. So here he stood in front of the house every night, hoping like a fool he’d find a rip in the barrier to get through.

Tonight was no different—except for the sudden press of a solid object on his nape, its shape in the likeness of a scabbard.

“And what, by Mama, is Prince Jongin doing lurking outside my house?”

Jongin wanted to turn around, but he doubted Lord Kyungsoo would allow him. So he stood there, senses on high alert. “This is your house? I would have expected something grander from the God of War.”

Lord Kyungsoo dug the scabbard harder into his nape. “Do not play me for a fool. I do not believe you were gallivanting in the neighborhood on a whim and stopped here, specifically, to admire the architecture. For several nights, no less. What is your purpose?”

“An answer to my question. I did not have the chance to ask it before you left last time. How is Sehun?”

“He is fine. You have your answer. Leave.”

Jongin would’ve taken the answer, but he wasn’t satisfied. Kyungsoo’s cagey attitude heightened his suspicion; spurred him to push a little more to extract information he wanted.

“Lord Kyungsoo, if I might be so frank with you: the first time we met at the palace, you have shown me nothing but hostility. Now, you are being cryptic. I do not care about your hostility, even if I have my questions about that. What intrigues me is your avoidance in answering questions related to Sehun. I’m convinced you want me to stay away for reasons you might or might not give.”

Lord Kyungsoo did not deign him with a response. A harder dig of the scabbard served as answer. A reaction, though a small one. Jongin worked it to his favor.

“Or, is it something else? Is there something I should know that could better explain your guarded nature? Why do you work so hard for us to not see each other, or let me know how he is faring?”

“I think you have the answer to that, Prince Jongin,” came Lord Kyungsoo’s calm answer. “Why should I welcome you to my house or attempt niceties when you are responsible for Sehun’s current state? The marks around his neck? I see no need to extend my courtesy to you when you have done nothing but bring disaster and misfortune to my brother.”

Lord Kyungsoo was Sehun’s older brother? “I did not know you were siblings.” Jongin was honest about this.

“Not by blood, but we are brothers, nonetheless.”

The pressure on Jongin’s nape disappeared, followed by Lord Kyungsoo’s quiet sigh. Lord Kyungsoo walked ahead of him; raised his right hand and waved. The once-invisible barrier encasing the property shimmered to existence; runes and celestial bodies intertwined, glowing a soft blue and thrummed with divine energy, slowly dissolving. 

“I will trust you this one time, Prince Jongin,” Lord Kyungsoo said, without turning around. “Do not do anything that would force me to draw my sword against you, Prince Baekhyun be damned. Do not think for one moment, however, that I am doing this voluntarily. This is more out of practicality, considering the current circumstances that we are unitedly facing.”

Vivi bound up to Lord Kyungsoo halfway through the courtyard, happy barks echoing in the night air, tail wagging furiously. He caught sight of Jongin and immediately growled. Jongin merely stared. Lord Kyungsoo calmed Vivi down with a soft call of his name and a stroke to his head, and Vivi followed him like a shadow into the house.

Jongin was unsure of what to expect when Lord Kyungsoo led him to one of the rooms. Certainly not the copious amount of divine energy coming from the healing runes surrounding an unconscious Sehun, creating a transparent barrier meant for recuperation. Its steady flow would’ve weakened Jongin by now had he been a lesser demon, although exposure to this amount affected him, too, in the way a slow spread of heat simmered uncomfortably beneath his human skin.

Jongin spied the faint marks on Sehun’s neck, prompting a strange ache in his chest. Ached stronger at a certain memory that rushed to the forefront of his mind, one he pondered on the rare, quiet interims amid the chaos.

A ruined claw was not Jongin’s sole acquisition during the explosion. A whirlwind of indiscernible images swirled and fought its way to the surface. One particular image stood out among the rest, clearing up and the colors filtering in. Nighttime, with the stars and moon shining bright together in the indigo-black sky. He was walking unhurried but with purpose in the meadow he’d seen one too many times in his dreams; stopped in his tracks upon catching sight of someone. Long, black hair bound and swaying back and forth with the breeze, also teasing the sleeves of an emerald green hanbok. Mystified was Jongin’s certainty of the figure’s identity as Sehun; proven true when he turned around and saw his face.

More mystifying was how the image ended before the searing pain of his injury dragged him back to reality, the phantom tingles on his lips not unwelcome but hardly lessened his confusion.

Lord Kyungsoo sat on the floor and tucked his legs beneath him. His sword rested by his side, just within reach, proving his threat was not empty. Jongin lingered by the doorway, tempted to invite himself in but wanted to avoided provocation. Awkwardness was very difficult to inspire in demons, but Kyungsoo seemed blessed with an uncanny ability for it.

“You can sit down, Prince Jongin; but if you would like to stand for the duration of your stay, I will not stop you.”

Jongin was more surprised by the offer, but didn’t question it and sat himself a good distance away from Lord Kyungsoo.

Lord Kyungsoo smoothed out the crease on the blanket with two hands. “How long will you be sleeping, Sehun? The realms are on the verge of facing their biggest challenge yet.”

Jongin shifted in place, feeling like an interloper intruding on a moment between brothers. The awkwardness was growing. Lord Kyungsoo might or might not be doing this on purpose.

“You have a visitor. Quite unexpected, I must say; but I do not think you are unfamiliar to each other.”

Lord Kyungsoo did not look at him, though his silence said everything: an open invitation to talk as he wished, sans guarantee of a reply. Jongin wanted to question what was the point of talking to someone unresponsive, but he tested his curiosity by calling out Sehun’s name.

Perhaps a trick of the light, but he thought Sehun’s brow twitched.

“There is a belief in the Human Realm that talking to someone who has fallen in a long, deep slumber does not mean their sense of hearing dulls,” Lord Kyungsoo said. “I do not know the truth of this belief since I do not know many humans, much less in a similar plight. I only know Sehun gets lonely easily, so I talk to him as a way to let him know I’m around.”

Now everything made more sense. If Lord Kyungsoo was using him to hasten Sehun’s awakening, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d gladly play along, though, if it meant he could get his answers faster.

“Sehun. Sehun, wake up. Your brother has been waiting for you to open your eyes. You’ve been asleep far too long.”

Sehun’s brows continued furrowing, forehead creases becoming a little more prominent.

“Your cooperation is surprising, Prince Jongin. I feel I should be suspicious about this.”

“Don’t be mistaken, Lord Kyungsoo. Demons do not bow to anyone, or follow orders willingly. I do this for my own gain.”

“I had almost believed your intentions to be noble. My bad; ‘noble’ and ‘demon’ should not be used in one sentence. Wait, keep talking—I think I saw Sehun’s frown.”

Surprise aside by his and Lord Kyungsoo’s bantering, Jongin continued talking to Sehun. About the Red Force, and how they were beginning to plague Seoul starting from the parks. How he and Baekhyun were eliminating them in the Demon Realm, too. Sometimes, Jongin only called out his name. It seemed to work. Sehun showed more progress outside of furrowed brows. His face twisted into numerous expressions, as if pained, or dreaming of something unpleasant but couldn’t escape its clutches. His head moved from side to side, yet his eyes remained shut.

“Don’t stop talking,” Lord Kyungsoo ordered, eyes fixed on Sehun’s every movement.

Any other time and Jongin would’ve taken offense to being ordered around. Right now, he was just as invested as Kyungsoo to see if this was the night Sehun would break out from his sleep. Jongin continued talking, sharing about what went on in the Demon Realm before he left. Then, he started bordering on more personal accounts:

“You have to wake up. The song you play over and over on your stringed instrument, I have known no peace since hearing it. It follows me to my dreams. You have spoken of its name once.”

“I have my suppositions of what you truly are. It would be better to hear the truth come from you. Lying will not help you—your brother and I have already met, and I know he is an important god in the Holy Realm. Do not try to force your warlock narrative on me. I do not believe in that any longer.”

“I am absolutely certain we saw the same things after I touched your bracelet.”

“You _what_?” Lord Kyungsoo’s incredulous question broke his rhythm.

Annoyed but regaining his tempo, Jongin paid no heed and continued talking. “After the blue light came out from your bracelet, I started seeing images. If you’ve experienced it, you would have seen the same thing. And I will have my answers. All of it.”

The glow of the healing runes receded then faded one by one in clockwork motion. The barrier disappeared; the flow of divine energy faded. Jongin looked at Lord Kyungsoo, question at the tip of his tongue.

Lord Kyungsoo read him correctly and answered, “The healing process is complete. Sehun’s divine energy has been restored. He should be waking up soon, although I cannot guarantee if it will happen tonight. It might take another full day, or depend on Sehun himself if he wants to rise.”

Both of them watched Sehun closely. Jongin refused to bat an eye, refused to miss one second.

Slowly, Sehun’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked several times at the ceiling, as if unsure of his whereabouts. He tilted his head to the side carefully; face breaking out into a smile upon seeing Lord Kyungsoo. Movement from beneath the blanket, and then Sehun was lifting his hand. Kyungsoo caught it right away, squeezing it between his own as he expelled a big, relieved sigh.

“By Mama, that was one of the longest waits in my life,” Kyungsoo whispered, using his free hand to further push back Sehun’s hair away from his forehead. “Welcome back, brother. I am glad you are now safe, and with us. Away from harm.”

“I always believed in you, brother,” Sehun spoke, smiling still. “I know you’d never let me down.”

The affectionate display between siblings reminded Jongin so much of his own and Baekhyun; a bond forged and strengthened by adversaries faced together and rose in number since the Demon King’s passing. Jongin had no doubt Baekhyun would always look after him, and he, in turn, would not forsake his own brother.

“Oh. You’re here.”

Jongin didn’t realize Sehun had addressed him until he caught Lord Kyungsoo’s stare. Sehun was staring at him with nary a trace of resentment for what he did, or contempt; not even fear. None of those were present in his aura. This was not the same Sehun who radiated fear when he caught him in a choke hold, helpless and struggling for his life. This Sehun was calm, disconcertingly so, staring in a way that made Jongin feel strangely exposed.

Sehun motioned he wanted to sit up. Lord Kyungsoo helped him right away. The blanket covering Sehun fell on his lap. Jongin spied the bracelet around Sehun's right wrist. The palm of his left hand tingled, as if remembering the pain, the burn.

Sehun looked at his bracelet. He stroked the strings and charm with the tips of his fingers, contemplation on his face.

“If you may, brother, I’d like to talk to Jongin. Just the both of us.”

Jongin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Lord Kyungsoo, on the other hand, seemed to have seen this coming as he sent a glance Jongin’s way before looking at Sehun again.

“Will you be okay by yourself?”

“I don’t think he’ll try anything while you’re around,” Sehun said honestly, sans provocation or mocking. “And if it comes down to that, I know how to defend myself. My energy has returned. I can feel it coursing through my body. I need to tell you something later, but first…” He motioned to Jongin to complete his sentence.

The doors closed, and Lord Kyungsoo’s footsteps faded. Sehun studied Jongin for a moment. Jongin didn’t retreat from the probing gaze; stared back. Saw something different in Sehun’s eyes, like a portion of his naiveté had disappeared, replaced with something mature and glowed with knowledge.

Sehun fumbled with the silver charm once more, never once breaking eye contact; never once skipping a beat with his next words.

“I know you saw what I saw that night.”

“Be more specific.”

Sehun narrowed his eyes. “Don’t play coy with me. It’s not the time. I’ll play along with you later when I’ve recovered enough to kick your ass. What should I think about that image where you looked completely demon and kissed me?”

Jongin should’ve predicted this, but the bold description caught him off-guard. “Have you not kissed anyone in your life? The image you speak was descriptive enough, if you ask me.”

“Do I look like someone who randomly kisses demons?” Sehun snapped, folding his arms across his chest, a challenge in his stare. “I can barely step out of this house most days because purifying infected trees take a lot out of me. What makes you think I have the energy for hookups? And don’t tell me this is the first time we’ve met. That image says otherwise with the way we”—he gestured to both of them with a hand—“looked quite… cozy. We must have known each other before all this. A past life?”

“Demons do not reincarnate,” Jongin said. “Mama is not that benevolent toward my kind. Gods, on the other hand, are blessed to have it. I have encountered some reincarnated gods during my time here, whether or not they were aware of who they once were.”

Sehun seemed to consider this. “Look, I’m not suspecting you, so this is more of a wild guess. Did you plant that image in my head? You know, since you’re a demon who can manipulate memories and feelings. Or, at least I think you can. Who knows what the extent of your powers are.”

“I have the power and means,” Jongin agreed, slowly, “but I do not use it on humans. Never did. I do not deny some demons are into unsavory methods, but I find no pleasure in manipulating and invading a human’s mind. It is not something I uphold or condone, and my brother would have my head if I crossed those lines.”

“A noble demon,” Sehun said, sounding awed. “How contradictory.”

Kyungsoo and Sehun, brothers by sass, indeed.

Sehun listed his head, confusion clouding his features. “But why did we look like we know each other so well in that image? Why… why did we even kiss? You looked so different, too—horns and tail and all—but the face is yours.”

“That is how I look in my true demon form. I am definitely sure this is my first time meeting you. I had hoped you would be able to enlighten me, instead; but it seems you are just as lost as I am.”

“Something’s not clicking.” Sehun’s face took on a ponderous expression. Sighed, resigned. “This is hurting my head. Anyway, I’m not sure why you’re here and how you managed to convince my brother to invite you inside. In one piece. He’s very selective of whom he lets in. A demon isn’t one, no offense.”

“I am as lost as you are,” Jongin said. “Your brother… we did not have a pleasant first meeting. His unfriendliness is puzzling but not unwarranted after…” He paused, realizing his unpreparedness of touching a sensitive topic, so he picked another one. “He must’ve thought I could help in some way to get you out of your deep sleep.”

Sehun made an awed sound. “I guess you did help. I heard you talking. You kept asking too many questions. Never knew a demon would be so talkative when they’re desperate for answers. Even Kyungsoo in his rare badgering moods doesn’t talk my ear off.”

Jongin couldn’t help but chuckle. “I _will_ have those answers.”

Jongin walked away from the room when Sehun called for Lord Kyungsoo and wished a private word with him. He could leave if he wanted; the protective barrier hasn’t been erected back, his goal met. A part of him wanted the opposite; wanted to stay close as possible. As allowed. How peculiar that talking to Sehun for a short time, seeing him well and sitting and talking, would incite such feelings.

A knock on the wooden gates. Jongin heard the sound right away but stayed in place. The knocks turned to raps. When no one came out to answer, the wooden gates creaked open. A human man stumbled inside the house. Jongin did not take long to recognize him as Sehun’s companion in Privé that night. The drunken friend whom Sehun had helped during the very first time he saw them together. Hyunbin, he remembered his name was. He recalled Hyunbin’s stunned and gaping face at him when he was dancing, which quickly turned to a glower for the rest of the performance. Jongin couldn’t have been mistaken when Hyunbin’s eyes flashed red, but the strobe lights rotating above the audience were of the same color at the time.

Hyunbin looked normal; walked like a sober man. The iridescent aura unique to humans surrounded him. Jongin found the huge splotches of black mixed in more peculiar, interesting, and suspicious. If his aura had been any darker, Hyunbin could pass as a corrupt human. Right now, the black splotches and the iridescence were warring with each other, fighting for dominance.

Hyunbin looked Jongin’s way; tensed up at once, face twisting in utmost surprise, and then open disdain, as he regarded Jongin’s presence with deep suspicion.

“Aren’t you that dancer from Privé?” he asked right away, shortening the distance some more. A severe frown sat on his lips.

“Correct,” Jongin answered curtly, irritated by Hyunbin’s tone. “I assume you are Sehun’s friend. I’ve seen you enter the club together. Funny how you didn’t leave together. Funnier how you didn’t chase after Sehun when he stormed off.”

Hyunbin visibly bristled. “That’s none of your business, got it? What in the ever loving fuck are you even doing here? Are you stalking Sehun now?”

Jongin raised an eyebrow. Humans came in all shapes and personalities. Hyunbin came packaged with crass and rudeness. “Correction: I did not stalk him. I was genuinely concerned about how he was doing.”

“You? Genuine? _Concerned?_” Hyunbin threw his head back and howled in laughter. “Since when were demons capable of showing a modicum of sympathy toward their victims? You’re a bunch of greedy fucks.”

“A demon? Me? Interesting you say that.” Jongin was done playing the polite game with this insolent human. He conjured scarlet flames in his hand, burning bright in the dark, ready to carry out his orders. A past conversation with Sehun during that particular Harvest Moon night returned to him in uncomfortable fragments. He loathed his need to control the temptation of roasting Hyunbin when he was in the mood to be merciless. “I’m not sure how you know I’m a demon, but after all this is over, you will regret wishing you ever encountered one.”

Hyunbin didn’t look too surprised by the flames. He didn’t look scared; not a trace of it in his aura, either. His eyes danced with wicked glee, an atypical reaction. “You think you scare me, demon? I don’t venture out into the world unprepared.”

Hyunbin snatched something from his pants pockets. Demon vision told Jongin they were tiny diamonds, transparent like the real gem but not remotely close to its luster. Hyunbin knocked them back and swallowed, grinning as if he’d already won.

Jongin wanted to retort that fancy-looking tablets wouldn’t help Hyunbin—until the alarming spike of energy. Intense. Untamed. Indecipherable, in the way more than one kind of energy was present. The infernal energy was palpable but the weakest; the most prominent something far more unholy, which Jongin couldn’t label.

Hyunbin gathered a white sphere spiraled with tendrils of black between his hands, crackling with infernal energy and enlarging by the seconds. He aimed the sphere at Jongin and released. Jongin unleashed his flames in retaliation. The blasts clashed, scarlet against white and black. The wind picked up around them violently as the blasts pushed against each other, neither side relenting. Jongin felt the strain in his arm but refused surrender, pushing his flames every time he was forced back. Hyunbin met him head-on. When Jongin thought he was gaining the upper hand, Hyunbin would push back mightily. A close, tight match.

Sparks of energy and flames flew everywhere. Jongin summoned more of his flames; gave one strong push. The flames were quickly overpowering Hyunbin’s energy blast by a marginal size. Jongin swallowed a victorious smirk.

“Don’t get cocky, demon,” Hyunbin said. “We’re just getting started.”

The wind whistled, and then Jongin was roaring as an arrow struck through his right shoulder.

The arrow struck with so much force he staggered back. His control on the flames slipped, caused by the trembling of his arm. Jongin’s senses were clouded by a strong, acrid scent. Horrid nausea began afflicting him His vision doubled; mind swimming, mouth drying. Breathing was a sudden struggle, the uncontrollable shaking of his arm spreading through his body. His wound throbbed, blood pouring from torn flesh taking too slow to mend. Hyunbin’s energy blast was beginning to overpower his flames. Relying on sheer willpower, he ground his teeth and pushed harder. Summoned bigger flames.

His link with the Tree of Discord thrummed in distress. _“Guardian,”_ it spoke, _“you are in danger. Retreat, or use my power.”_

A shout from the distance. It oddly sounded like Lord Kyungsoo. A lurking presence outside of the house, waiting and watching from the shadows. Jongin’s mind was too hazy to determine if it was a demon or not. Jongin’s body buckled. Someone caught him before he could completely keel over, but not fast enough to save him from plunging headfirst into an endlessly dark abyss.

When Jongin opened his eyes, he was looking up at the unmistakable ceiling of a cave.

He’d had this dream before. The wound on his right shoulder, the wooziness, the woodsy scent coming from the gauze. A man with his back to him at the corner of the cave, probably sensing he was awake, engaging him in small talk. Long, black hair. An emerald green hanbok. The man said something he did not take well. Offended, Jongin ignored the throb on his shoulder and lunged, meaning to take a swipe at his neck, but was flung back at the last second by a protective barrier. Jongin recovered from the crash, stunned and lightheaded and furious. The man rose from his spot and turned around.

The man was Sehun.

Once near, Sehun poked at his wounded shoulder. Jongin hissed and snarled in response. Sehun lectured him for his actions; dumped a bag on him apparently containing the cure to his wound and rattled off instructions he should follow closely, or else.

Jongin blinked, and the dream dissolved. This time, he was staring at the wooden beams of a ceiling.

A spare room was Jongin’s best guess. His shoulder throbbed when he sat up, reminding him of what transpired earlier. What transpired in his dream.

“You’re awake? Good.”

Sehun poked his head in the room before stepping inside. He carried vials and jars that suspiciously resembled those in his dream. He sat by the edge of the mattress, looking at the bandage wrapped around Jongin’s shoulder. “In case you wanted to know, you were struck outcold by an arrowhead dipped in demonbane.”

Demonbane. A forbidden poison in the Demon Realm known to impede the circulation of blood and oxygen in the system, induced hallucinations, impaired regenerative abilities, and ultimately killed the affected party. A poison so rare produced from an equally rare gemstone its existence had been disputed for centuries by scholars, the only known account of its usage by the second Demon King’s fifth spouse supported by dubious accounts at best. There was no known cure for demonbane, and those caught who had it in their possession were severely punished.

Jongin waited for his grogginess to pass before asking, “What happened?”

“Hyunbin almost won, but he was taken care of. My brother was furious because you thought it was a great idea to turn our courtyard into a battlefield.”

“It is not my fault alone.” Jongin couldn’t help defending himself. The complaint made him sound like a petulant demon child.

“Fine. My brother is furious by yours _and_ Hyunbin’s behavior,” Sehun corrected. “If you want to know, Kyungsoo has Hyunbin currently detained. I’ve finished the antidote for your wound.” He gestured to the jars and vials laid out in order. “Take all of these for five days and five nights, no skipping, or else you’ll have unwanted complications. You won’t recover properly if you miss one day. You’re lucky I know how to do this antidote, or you would’ve been convulsing your way to death.”

Jongin looked at the jars and vials in varigating shades of blue. He looked at Sehun’s face carefully, the resemblance between him and the one he saw in his dream uncanny.

“Staring at me won’t cure you or speed up the recovery process, but I appreciate the admiration.”

Jongin scoffed. “You did not talk like this in the dream I had. The sass carries over, though.”

Sehun’s expression became strangely guarded. “What are you talking about?”

Jongin clutched his bandaged shoulder and squeezed. He winced at the throb, but it grounded him further to reality. Solidified that everything happening right now was real, and not trickled dreams of a life that seemed like his own but lacked connection with.

“If what I’ve been dreaming was part of a life I only have a vague recollection of at best, this would be the second time I have been poisoned by demonbane. Both times, it was you who offered the cure.” Jongin paused, making sure he was coherent in delivering his thoughts. His grogginess hadn’t fully left yet. “This would also mean the time I saw you in the alleyway helping a drunk Hyunbin was… not our first encounter.”

Sehun did not answer right away. He took to arranging the vials and jars; biggest to smallest, lighter to darker shades. Jongin would have prodded him for an answer by now, but he waited instead of pushing.

Sehun blew out a sigh and finally met his gaze. “You’re partially right. That night in the alleyway when I was helping Hyunbin while he puked? That was the first time you saw me. But when Vivi ran up to you at the park and I chased after him? That was technically the first time I met you. In this life.”

The words registered too fast in Jongin’s mind he could only exclaim a breathless, shocked, “_What?_”

“You said it yourself, didn’t you? Gods can reincarnate, and you’ve met some of them living in this realm," Sehun reminded him, lips stretching to form a tiny smile. It looked sad, somewhat, and Jongin disliked the sight of it. “I am one living example. This is my second life.”

Jongin must’ve been stunned speechless too long because Sehun continued to explain, “In my first life, you were already there. I’m not sure why you don’t remember me. The reason I don’t remember you is because my memories were erased. It’s a non-negotiable rule that comes with the cycle of reincarnation: so the god can start as a blank state. I did, but growing up, I dreamed of all these fragmented memories. Some were happy. Some were sad. I didn’t know I was dreaming of my past life as a god until Kyungsoo descended from the Holy Realm and told me who I was, and how we were related. Everything made sense from there.”

“But you have your powers. You have an enormous amount of divine energy, even more than Lord Kyungsoo.”

“For I am your counterpart, Jongin. Aside from being a god, I was Mama’s chosen for the Tree of Life. A Guardian, too, just like you.”

The answer shouldn’t have shocked him. He’d witnessed Sehun purifying infected trees in the past. No ordinary god could fulfill an epic task unless they were a Guardian. A simple but important detail that slipped from Jongin’s mind, faulting his fixation over the the Tree of Discord’s state and the Red Force.

“Why do you continue to dally here in the Human Realm if you remember your status as Guardian? Shouldn’t you make haste and return to care for the Tree of Life?”

Sehun’s expression turned grim. “It’s not that easy. My divine energy might have returned, but the state of my godhood hasn’t. I was reborn as human. My body is human. They won’t let me enter the Holy Realm as human.” He sighed, and it was a wistful sound. “We can talk about this another time. You don’t look ready for this conversation—your eyes are glazing over. Demonbane does that. You need to rest. Don’t forget your medication. No excuses.”

Jongin couldn’t help chuckling. “This echoes what you told me in that dream. Memory. I am undecided of what to call it.”

“It is a memory for me. One I consider important. Among other things. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Sehun’s cryptic answer confirmed Jongin’s suspicions. He wouldn’t disregard the possibility of total recall when Sehun was submerged in deep sleep. In a way, he envied Sehun; wished his dreams would play in complete sequences than seeing it in trickles and left to make sense of them when he woke.

Jongin wasn’t sure if he slept, but he sensed the medication working in the intermittent drooping of his eyes. Sunlight was filtering through the thin paper of the doors when he opened his eyes next, body rejuvenated, the wound on his shoulder already hurting less. He searched for a clock in the room; found none. Estimated it might be real early from the birdsong he heard from a distance. He stepped out of the room, surprised to spot Lord Kyungsoo faster than he sensed him. Though medicated and relatively better, the demonbane mustn’t have completely worn off yet if it he hardly felt other presences in the house.

Lord Kyungsoo was sitting alone in the courtyard; beside him, a tray with a teapot and cups. “I see you’ve risen,” he said, not taking his gaze away from the horizon. He sipped his tea next. “The demonbane will stay in your system for five days. Sehun’s antidote will neutralize its effects and heal you. Well, don’t just awkwardly stand there.”

“You are awfully friendly, Lord Kyungsoo. I have every right to be suspicious,” Jongin said, but sat down an arms’ length away from him; waited for a (violent) reaction to the distance. None. He winced a little at the throb of his wound; he’d already applied the ointment and drank the potion before stepping out of the room.

“I sense you have questions.”

“Astounding observation. I have done nothing but sit here and relayed not a single word to you.”

“It’s written on your face.” Kyungsoo took another sip. Poured tea in a cup; set it down by Jongin’s hand. “You may ask, but I will decide if I want to answer.”

Sass ran thick in this family, blood-bound or not.

“Sehun is a Guardian. He should’ve returned to the Holy Realm after waking up. He told me why it wasn’t possible, but it is frankly hard to believe.”

“Humans are forbidden entry to the Holy Realm. Sehun might possess and exude divine energy, but his body is made of human flesh. The gates will recognize him as human more than a god. The gates will not let him pass. I could not have done anything, even if I had taken him there immediately after he’d woken.”

Jongin might not agree with the unnecessary strictness of the gods, though he conceded different realms upheld different rules. “Is there anything that can be done?”

“The Fruit of Godhood can turn any human into a god. It is a fruit that grows from the Tree of Life once every millennium. The tree was due to grow the fruit this year if not for its state of languish. There exists, however, a more roundabout way that can help Sehun. But the quest is perilous, and I have not heard of any reincarnated god who have attempted.”

There was only one suitable question to this statement. What came out from Jongin’s mouth was: “Why are you confiding in me?”

“It is Sehun’s wish. I am not one to go against my brother’s wishes. If I had my way, I would’ve assisted him; however, I am bound by obligations and the duty to protect the Human Realm. I have just returned from a night patrol shortly after you emerged from the room. There had been sightings east of the river. We managed to save the victim this time. Your brother was there, too.”

“This is the part where you ask me a favor.”

“I can order you, but I reckon demons do not take it lightly from anyone.” There was a challenge in Kyungsoo’s stare; his smirk.

“I can do it willingly if it will help end this madness faster,” Jongin said. “Tell me, then. What is to be done?”

“You are to seek the Temple of Two Moons. According to Old World Text, this is the place where the very first Almighty was bestowed an elixir by Mama as a reward for their unwavering faith and devotion, as well as guiding followers to the right path. After drinking the elixir, the Almighty turned from human to god, and was appointed as the most revered being in the Holy Realm. It was meant to be a secret, but word spread fast far and wide. Humans, with their greedy hearts and desires, raided the temple in search of the elixir. Disappointed by their behavior, Mama hid the temple from sight, never to be found again.”

Jongin digested the information. “You would not be telling me this if the temple has truly ceased to exist.”

“Correct. But that is the extent of the knowledge I am willing to impart with you. I have discussed this last night with Sehun. He is willing to embark on this journey. His fierce sense of duty is not to be underestimated, even way back.”

“In his first life?” Jongin dared ask, keeping his eyes peeled open to gauge Lord Kyungsoo’s reaction upon saying the words.

To his surprise, Lord Kyungoo nodded, sans hesitation.

“I am aware gods reincarnate when they pass, as long as they have done plenty of good deeds that helps them reap good karma. If Sehun reincarnated, does this mean he… rather, why?”

Though calm in his sipping of tea, Lord Kyungsoo’s darkened expression contrasted the gesture.

“That is not for me to reveal.”

The tone Lord Kyungsoo used left no room for argument or questioning. Jongin controlled his curiosity, even if he knew he would ponder on this from time to time.

Quite a peculiar turn of events to be sitting with a god he was at odds with, chatting in a civilized manner like the threat to Jongin’s life wasn’t looming still. Though the painful awkwardness between them required a lot more work, somehow, even if it was just wishful thinking, Lord Kyungsoo’s hostility toward him had seemed to have decreased, if not totally vanished.

“What happened to Hyunbin?” Jongin remembered to ask. “I have a duel to settle with him.”

“Not in this courtyard, and not right now,” Lord Kyungsoo answered. “I have detained him after breaking up your fight. Had it gone out of hand a second longer, the wild energy would’ve attracted outside forces. Or, Mama have mercy, the Red Force. I admit my carelessness had almost cost us.”

“Something peculiar about this Hyunbin,” Jongin said. “He does not come off human to me. Or, he might be entirely human but has access to forbidden powers. Last night is a testament. That infernal energy was mixed with something I cannot pinpoint.” He told Lord Kyungsoo about the diamond-shaped tablets he’d seen.

“I have not the faintest what those might be,” Lord Kyungsoo said. “I can ask around, see if anyone else is familiar.”

“How in the Three Realms did he become friends with Sehun?” Jongin wondered aloud. “Is Sehun aware of this side of Hyunbin? I had not sensed anything unnatural from him in our limited encounters until last night.”

“I have only seen him last night, but I am absolutely convinced I do not trust Sehun with Hyunbin.” Lord Kyungsoo’s candid confession surprised Jongin. “I might dislike you, Prince Jongin, and I will not front about that. Hyunbin, on the other hand… I am filled with unease at the mere sight of him.”

Jongin lifted the cup to his lips. He savored the robust flavor of tea and the likeness of solidarity on his tongue.

“That makes the two of us, then.”

Kyungsoo’s house was enclosed by a tall wooden fence that blocked passers-by from looking inside the property as they walked past. It prevented neighborhood rascals from picking or stomping on the flowers Sehun worked hard to grow and care for through non-magical means. It provided a lot of privacy, so if Sehun decided he wanted to go about his gardening without nosy elders asking why he was harvesting winter vegetables clad in boxers and nothing else, he could damn well do it in peace. It concealed the gigantic, transparent sphere floating in their backyard where an unconscious Hyunbin was currently imprisoned, sealed tight by protective incantations and emitting high concentrations of divine energy.

Sehun could easily dispel the incantations, the sphere itself if he wished. Last night’s fight that nearly blew up their property to smithereens and his lengthy discussions with Kyungsoo forbade his arm from moving. Sehun stared long and hard at the sphere; clenched his fists so tight nails dug into flesh, reiterating to himself not to do anything foolish.

He turned to leave when Hyunbin stirred in his sleep. He watched Hyunbin’s eyes open; widen. Sehun had never seen the color drain from Hyunbin’s face so after glancing around his surroundings—a foreign sight for someone whose hubris was seldom shaken, even if he was in the wrong. Hyunbin spotted Sehun, immediately banging his fists against the sphere, an uncharacteristic desperation and panic fueling the gestures; showed in his expression.

“Sehun! Sehun, don’t just stand there! The fuck is this? Let me out! C’mon, this isn’t funny.”

The sphere didn’t crack from the pressure and absorbed Hyunbin’s blows.

A twinge of guilt pricked Sehun. He chose to ignore it. “Hyunbin, calm down. As strange as it sounds, no one’s going to hurt you. You’re safe inside.”

“_Safe?_” Hyunbin spat out the word, incredulous. “How the hell am I supposed to feel safe when you cage me like an animal? Do I look like one to you? Let me out right now!”

“Or else what?” Sehun challenged, bravery rushing through his veins. “If I don’t release you, what are you going to do?”

Hyunbin stared at him with his mouth agape, as if Sehun had become an entirely different person. He wouldn’t be far off from the truth. Sehun _was_ a changed person after everything he’d undergone; memories he’d retrieved and truths revealed.

“Stop fucking with me! Be useful and get me out of here!” Hyunbin struck as hard as he could to no avail. When Sehun didn’t deign him with a response, Hyunbin yanked at his hair and screamed in frustration. Dug haphazardly into his pockets. “Fucking fine! If you’re going to be useless, I’ll do it myself!”

Sehun caught the sparkle of an object in Hyunbin’s hands. The diamond-like tablets. The ones he had naively thought were narcotics obtained from shady people doing shady business. The ones Hyunbin had taken last night prior to the showdown according to Jongin. Sehun did nothing to stop Hyunbin as he knocked back five at once. Hyunbin’s eyes flashed from demon red to the normal brown and back at red. Stayed red. The spike of infernal energy combined with some other was unmistakable. A baleful aura of purplish black surrounded his form. Fists glowing, Hyunbin tried knocking down the sphere in one magically-enhanced strike.

The sphere absorbed the impact and flung Hyunbin back, to his utter shock.

“You really think my brother will use a magical enclosure on you that can be destroyed with one punch? I’m offended on his behalf.” A momentary pity came over watching Hyunbin, who refused to listen and repeatedly struck; repeatedly flung back. “You’re wasting your time and energy. Borrowed power won’t help you get out there.”

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

Hyunbin’s energy was running haywire with each pound of his fists, features morphing between an inhuman-looking countenance and his normal face. Veins bulged on his forehead, canines elongating, a nearly hysterical gleam in his eyes.

“Stop this at once!” Sehun raised his voice loud enough to catch Hyunbin’s attention. It worked. Hyunbin’s chest heaved with the exertion of breathing, face resembling nothing of what Sehun was familiar. “You’ll only hurt yourself in the long run. Nothing good comes out of chasing after things not meant to be, especially if it’s not for you.”

Hyunbin’s silence was far more unsettling than his outbursts of anger; his probing gaze no different.

“I see you have awakened, God of Seasons and Weather.”

Hyunbin said it with confidence, without an ounce of surprise; eyes intense and thorough with scrutiny Sehun stepped back once in his shock. Recovered quick.

“So, you know.”

“I’ve always known, Sehun,” Hyunbin gloated, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “I’ve always known you were a reincarnated god. I had a hard time tracking you down because your brother made it impossible to find you. It took me years before I succeeded. It was so much fun making you believe I was your friend! Ah, the look of innocence and happiness on your face when I initiated friendship with you that day—such a beautiful expression I badly wanted to ruin! I was tempted so many times! But I had to control myself; it’s no fun if I make you suffer in one fell swoop.” A frown appeared between his brows. “Too bad my plans were foiled prematurely. I have to admit, you are far smarter in this life.”

Sehun took several deep breaths. He recognized this game. He’d played it one too many times in the past; lost just as many. Hyunbin was provoking him on purpose; wanted him to lose patience. Sehun would play right into Hyunbin’s hands by losing his temper; merely listening to his poisonous words. One show of weakness, and Hyunbin would strike; revel in his victory at having tugged at the strings he knew would evoke the reactions favorable to him. Sehun didn’t want that. Refused it. He’d used so many excuses to justify Hyunbin’s poor treatment of him before. He wouldn’t allow it anymore. Plucked courage for his next words.

“If you know I am, I know who you are as well. I know what you’ve been through. I’ve heard of your fate from my brother. You became a Disgraced.”

The words struck true. Hyunbin’s snarled response injected a smug sense of satisfaction in Sehun, rare but relished.

“What’s wrong? Can’t argue back because I’m right? You _are_ a Disgraced. You committed the highest treason in the Holy Realm. You were stripped of your powers, thrown out of the realm, forever exiled. Now, you are paying for your sins by living every single day of your life as human and all the severe limitations that come with it.” Sehun exhaled hotly, shaking his head. “Some of your past actions confused me. I’m enlightened now. No longer do I wonder why you dissuaded me to meet Jongin when I brought up Privé, and your reaction to being acquainted with him without telling you.”

Hyunbin recovered from his stupor and smirked. “Oh, trust me, Sehun. If you think you’re safer with a demon than with me, think again. If I’m a fool for underestimating you, between the both of us, you are by far the bigger fool still for trusting a demon, of all things.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Sehun snapped. He cared little for Hyunbin talking smack about him. Nonsensical crap spoken against Jongin he wouldn’t tolerate. “Even if he is a demon, I would trust him more with my life than you.”

“You’ve gone mad!” Hyunbin threw his head back and laughed, loud and unrestrained. Hollow. “You’ve gone absolutely mad trusting a demon—him, of all demons out there!” More of his grating laughter. Sehun’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “If you wanna be stubborn, fine. I’ll let you. But what about Jongin? Does he know? How do you think the poor little demon prince would react? I would _love_ to deliver the news myself just to see his face when—”

“You will do no such thing,” Sehun told him sternly; angrily. Never did he imagine the day would come his patience and understanding would reach its end for someone he called a friend. “You’ve done enough harm and grief in the first life. I won’t let you do it again. You’ll stay in this enclosure until my brother figures out what to do with you. Probably not how you imagined returning to the Holy Realm, huh?”

“You’re exceedingly idiotic if you believe I’ll sit here and wait for judgment just because you say so," Hyunbin spat, eyes narrowing into slits of angry red. “I was destined for greatness! No one will stop me! Every single god will pay for what they’ve done to me!”

“Good luck setting your plans to motion,” Sehun deadpanned. “Sad that you had to sort to borrowed powers. Your obsession with power will lead to your destruction one day. Stay human, and learn to live as one.”

Hyunbin answered him, but his words came out slurred and unintelligible for Sehun to comprehend, interspersed hisses making him sound almost demonic. He punctuated his rants with mighty wallops in vain, sphere whole and intact and tireless in tossing Hyunbin after each hit. Soon his powers faded like a dying candle; soon he was digging into his pockets once again for more of the diamond tablets. The purplish black aura returned; so did the powers Hyunbin reaped from the momentary high. A unending cycle pointing to a downhill struggle.

Ignoring the heaviness in his chest, Sehun forced himself to look away from the painful train wreck his ex-best friend had become. Forced himself to return inside the house and never look back, even if Hyunbin called out his name and begged for forgiveness. Begged for a second chance. They had been friends, and they had good times together; but there was no forgiving Hyunbin’s admission to sabotage, past sins counted. Sehun prided himself to be generous with second chances. He’d given too many to Hyunbin—unearned, most of them. A difficult, heartbreaking lesson learned then and now.

Abandoning a friend no matter how dreadful the circumstance or offense was never part of Sehun’s code of loyalty.

Hyunbin would be the sole exception.

Petals continued falling like gray rain within the temple. Long gone was the Tree of Life’s pink hue far more pleasing to the eyes, a cause of lament and worry among the muses who accompanied Jongdae to play. Muses came and left in batches, following a scheduled rotation set by Jongdae so they would not strain themselves playing for long hours. Uninitiated muses would trail after Jongdae as he led them inside, and they would gasp in unveiled shock and fright upon seeing the desolate state of the mighty tree. Returning muses wore optimistic expressions on their appointed shifts, eyes alight with hope that Jongdae loathed extinguishing when he could not offer positive news.

The tree did not cease in showing a positive response to their music. Existing wounds on the trunk closed at a more sluggish pace since the petals’ transformation to gray, and no new ones had formed. Little progress was still progress.

Jongdae had received a message from Kyungsoo not too long ago, informing him of Sehun’s successful awakening; the plan to search for the elixir as a substitute for the holy fruit. If they succeeded, the Guardian and tree would be reunited soon. Jongdae made a mental note to take time off to offer prayers to Mama for Sehun’s safe journey and victorious return; for the Tree of Life to never stop responding to his healing energy, and hang on a little more.

Perhaps a third prayer was in order, Jongdae mused, slightly nervous, as he looked up at the Elysian Clock.

One glyph pulsed with a golden glow.

The muses broke out into a frenzied murmur, trading nervous glances.

Three glyphs yet to light.

Faster. Stronger. Deadlier.

The camellias spared no tree—dead or alive, young or old—and latched onto them like beautiful parasites to bloom at will. No longer did the camellias grow exclusively at night anymore, calling the attention of humans in parks by bewitching them with its perfumed scent, then unleashed havoc by birthing hundreds of gruesome demons in an alarming span of seconds. The uncontrolled amount of infernal energy led to an evolution in physique, the Red Force no longer identical in appearance. Some sprouted wings or lacked eyes. Others had abnormally-long tongues that could stretch for miles to capture escaping victims; a number with bodies resembling insects and reptiles. Their insatiable appetite for raw flesh and fresh blood, horrific and unchanged.

The Red Force attacked in droves; casualties growing in frightening numbers. Public surveillance continuously failed to capture what was killing humans. Police investigations revealed the cameras would short-circuit before the murders happened; found no evidence of the electrical wiring being purposefully tampered. Ordinary citizens shared similar accounts, cameras of their devices refusing to work in their attempts to record or snap a photo of what the monsters looked like. Heated discussion ran rampant in online forums when an anonymous source uploaded a detailed sketch of the demon they allegedly encountered in World Cup Park. Forum moderators across the internet had to freeze or delete related posts. Reposts of the demon sketch had been marked as sensitive content, though it didn’t stop the private sharing in direct messages. Conspiracy theories spread like wildfire in popular social media platforms, inciting mass hysteria linked to the nearing end of the world. 

Jongin wrinkled his nose as he let Baekhyun’s rundown of current events sink in. He was surprised to see Baekhyun traipse through the wooden gates on Lord Kyungsoo’s return from a night patrol, clothes slashed in places flashing newly-mended skin, a smattering of red staining his shirt. Lord Kyungsoo looked worse for wear, but Sehun tended to his brother at once. Baekhyun had been informed of what happened to Jongin on his ascent and was determined to visit; told him of the worsening carnage in the Demon Realm, their countermeasures.

“The Red Force are slowly encroaching the capital,” Baekhyun said, expression somber. “The army is on high alert. The greater part of the population has been evacuated to safer spaces and is undergoing as we speak. The capital is the realm’s last line of defense. If it falls, the Demon Realm faces ruin. I’d rather perish than see it happen.”

“I have absolute faith in you, brother,” Jongin said, scooting close to curve an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders and pull him close. “I will help any way I can—just tell me how.”

“Has the Tree of Discord shown any changes since last time?”

“The tree hungers in a way I am unaccustomed.” Jongin slightly frowned now that the topic had been touched. At first, he caught wisps of complaints through the link, urging him to go on a hunt. Jongin did not deem this unusual before Harvest Moons; he likened the tree to a mercurial demon child who wanted one thing now but changed its mind later. Then the complaints grew in frequency as did the discontent rippling through the link, leaving Jongin grappling with his limited options of hunting in his poisoned state and becoming a liability, or appeasing the tree with promises of a later hunt.

“Not exactly.” Baekhyun sounding like he expected this surprised Jongin. “The Tree of Life is wasting away and causing imbalance. Other than that…”

“What is it? Don’t keep it from me.”

“The Eclipse is coming.”

Loaded silence ensued.

Jongin attempted and failed to form a coherent response from the flurry of thoughts and questions. “Do not joke about this,” he reprimanded, though it lacked the intended heat; sounded weak to his ears.

“The healers at the palace have seen signs of the sun and moon beginning to peek from our sky,” Baekhyun said. “It might be a contributing factor to the tree’s bizarre appetite, aside from what we already know. The deformities happening to the Red Force, too. Sehun needs his godhood back more than ever. The Holy Realm will be annihilated if he is too late in rescuing the Tree of Life. The Human Realm will follow, and so might ours.”

“Sehun and I will embark on a quest soon,” Jongin told Baekhyun; expounded on the details. “We leave once I am recovered.” He touched his bandaged shoulder, inhaling a whiff of the ointment’s woodsy scent Sehun applied not too long ago. “Demonbane. How could demonbane exist in the Human Realm? The gemstone source is one I have not seen with my own eyes.”

Baekhyun’s slow shake of head was his answer. “What matters is you survived. It happened once. I would have no doubt you’d overcome it a second time.”

“I have dreamed of it. I am aware this is my second poisoning. Sehun has provided the cure both times, but he refuses to elaborate on it when I ask. Should I bother seeking answers from you when you are just as tight-lipped?”

Baekhyun’s chuckle lacked its usual cheer. His next words did not lack in seriousness; his voice dripped contempt at the near end. “Your first encounter with demonbane was over a century ago. The prime minister’s son tried taking your life using demonbane and disposed of your body where we could not track you, perhaps in the naïve assumption you would have long passed by the time we found your body. Executing the prime minister’s entire clan and servants as punishment for their treason was getting off lightly, if you ask me.”

Jongin could not recall any of this, though he saw no reason why Baekhyun would create stories for fun. Execution was reserved for the most inexcusable crimes in their realm. Assassination of a sovereign, attempted or otherwise, warranted said punishment. He wondered, in vain, if the prime minister’s son sorted to illegal means in acquiring the demonbane; how.

On the fifth and final night of medication, the bandages came off, and Jongin’s shoulder was completely healed. Lord Kyungsoo gave them additional instructions as he and Sehun prepared for their quest. The next day, on the appointed time, Jongin held Sehun by the crook of his elbow and teleported them to their destination.

An eerie silence shrouded Seoraksan National Park on their arrival. Hard to believe a popular, must-visit park teeming with tourists was now void of excited crowds on a beautiful sunny day like today. Jongin wasn’t too surprised. After police investigations reaped little to no results regarding the streak of mass murders, the government decided to keep Seoul on lockdown until further notice. Citizens were warned to stay away from parks or any places with trees; get rid of camellias if they cared for any at home. Brave souls could venture out if needed but were advised to go with a companion; better in groups; best if they stayed indoors.

Sehun declared he would lead them to a sacred place but would not say where; picked a trail and motioned Jongin to follow, hands gripping tight the straps of a satchel bag he brought with him. Jongin would’ve teleported them both to the location, but Lord Kyungsoo had advised against using their powers in case a Red Force demon was nearby and sensed their presences.

Not a single note of birdsong shattered the disconcerting quiet of the mountains; between the thickness of the trees. A most telling indication of something terrible lurking, lying in wait for the right moment to strike. They passed streams and traversed bridges. Stone steps became increasingly steeper on their hike. Jongin strained his demon ears and frowned, disturbed by the absence of heartbeat both human and beast.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Jongin asked, climbing one of the many rock steps leading to the most massive suspension bridge yet. Though barely exhausted, he wanted verification Sehun wasn’t guiding them down the wrong trail.

“Yup.” Although they’d been walking for half an hour, and sweat was beading along his hairline, Sehun didn’t sound out of breath. There was a surety to his steps as he climbed two at a time, knowledge of this trail showing through. “I used to hike with co-teachers from the center. Seoraksan was one of our go-tos for it. One of them was concerned about my health, so they suggested going on hikes to improve my stamina and lungs. If only they knew what was weakening me on most days.” He didn’t sound sour about it; laughed, even.

“Certainly not your purification of infected trees,” Jongin jested. “Why does using your powers take a toll on your body? Surely Lord Kyungsoo would have taught you proper control and usage of it?”

“According to him, my human body isn’t built to contain huge amounts of divine energy. Since I’m also a Guardian, there’s bound to be more. So Kyungsoo made me wear this.” Sehun shook the wrist with the bracelet. Sunlight bounced off the silver charm. “It’s to control the flow of divine energy and prevent it from destroying my human vessel of a body. When I become a god again, this bracelet won’t be needed anymore. My body would have adjusted better by then, I think.”

“_I_ think it serves more than one purpose,” Jongin said, remembering his damaged hand. He told Sehun; was granted a sheepish smile.

“Yeah, about that. Kyungsoo cast this ancient spell on the bracelet so it can only be removed by either me or him. And to ward off demons. Didn’t expect you to be that demon.”

“Didn’t expect my hand to be grilled, either.” While he admired the extent of Kyungsoo’s protectiveness, Jongin was still sore about the incident. Perhaps it might take a while before he moved on.

The rest of their trek beyond the suspension bridge was done in comfortable silence. Jongin’s demon senses were on high alert to be better attuned to their surroundings. His sensitive hearing picked up the low whistle of the wind, the soft landing of autumn leaves and its crunch beneath their shoes. Rushing water from a far distance, growing increasingly loud. Sehun’s face lit up instantly when they came upon majestic waterfalls.

“Biryong Falls!” Sehun exclaimed, expertly making his way down the falls where it spilled onto a clear pool, over boulders, and through a ravine that cut through the mountain. “Usually, this spot is very crowded. It’s one of the more popular places in this park.”

Beside the pool were boulders and flat rocks where people could lounge and laze, according to Sehun. He sat himself on one and set his bag aside; motioned for Jongin to join him.

“What are we to do now?”

“We wait for the hour between afternoon and night. The pool is shallow right now, but the waters are supposed to rise on the exact moment.” Sehun looked at the sky. “It’s gonna take a while. Good thing it’s not too hot today. I would’ve regretted not taking sunblock with me.”

“Vanity should be the least of your concerns, young god.”

Jongin was as shocked as Sehun looked when the last two words slipped out. He couldn’t explain where the words came from; what prompted him to say it. Yet the syllables fell so naturally from his lips, confusing him further. Slack-jawed, wide-eyed, and seemingly shocked into silence, Sehun’s eyes flashed with emotion after emotion too fast for Jongin to catch and label, but set off a racking ache behind his ribs.

“My apologies. I don’t think I should have said that,” Jongin found himself saying, anyway, though unsure why he needed to say sorry. “I’m not sure where those words came from.”

Sehun said nothing, but he kicked off his shoes and dipped his feet into the water. Jongin studied his aura, relieved Sehun was not upset. In the subsequent silence, Sehu hummed the tune of a song that sounded unfamiliar to Jongin—until it took on a solid form, melody familiar.

An insistent tugging at the back of Jongin’s mind. The full realization hit him hard. This was the song he heard Sehun play on the stringed instrument on their happenstance meetings. The same song the long-haired Sehun played in his dream in front of a lake before he’d seen his face. Words from that dream cut through the fog of his mind. Jongin remembered Sehun calling this song—

“_Lover’s Cry._”

The humming stopped. The rushing water suddenly sounded too loud.

Jongin met Sehun’s wide-eyed stare and said, with more confidence this time, “That song you were humming. I know it. I’ve heard of its name in a dream. It’s called _Lover’s Cry_.”

The slow spread of a smile bloomed on Sehun’s face. “You’re right. Tell me more. What did you see in that dream?”

“The more handsome version of you.”

Sehun made a sound of protest, but Jongin didn’t allow him to interrupt and detailed said dream. Sehun’s face softened the longer Jongin talked. The long-forgotten hollowness in Jongin’s chest throbbed anew. When Sehun revealed the story behind the song, Jongin thought the rumors about the God of Love’s hopeless sentimentality seemed to ring true.

“Would you ever take a human as a lover?” Sehun’s random question caught him off-guard. He was looking out into the water, lifting one foot and wiggling his toes. The other.

“A lover for the night, mostly,” Jongin answered truthfully. He saw no reason to lie about past sexual escapades. He didn’t think Sehun would believe him, anyway, after the stunt he pulled that night at the alleyway. “I ‘love’ them for the night so I can feed off their sexual energy. I feed close to Harvest Moons since I need to be fit for hunts. I admit I do it for fun sometimes, or if I’m lacking strength after hunts.”

Sehun let out a short laugh. “Chill. It was one question. You really went ahead and explained yourself, huh?”

The cool breeze did nothing for Jongin’s suddenly warm cheeks.

“Have you not sexed up any human and thought they could be more than just food? It can happen, right? I imagine that could give you an existential crisis since you’re supposed to be this tough demon with an eternal case of emotional constipation.”

Jongin gave Sehun a slanted look, confused but amused at the same time. “So curious about my affairs, aren’t you? I haven’t met anyone like that. Ah, ah, enough about me—I shall ask my own questions, now. How long have you known you were a god reincarnated?”

“Since childhood,” Sehun easily replied. “I was born and raised human in this realm I consider my home now. I dreamed a lot about my past life, but I didn’t know it at the time. I thought my dreams were influenced by the many superhero and fantasy shows playing on television. I couldn’t understand why Kyungsoo never stayed home most of the time. I’d throw a fit every time he had to leave again after showing up. I discovered why by accident. A wild demon attacked out of nowhere and tried eating me. I didn’t know I was giving off divine energy making flowers bloom in our backyard during winter. Kyungsoo was busy getting rid of those demons, so he couldn’t spend a lot of time with me. That was also the day he gave me this”—he pointed to his bracelet—”and explained things to satiate my curiosity.

“Now that I remember, everything feels surreal.” Sehun’s smile was sheepish. “The life I used to live… it doesn’t seem like mine. I’m curious about a lot of things, so I try to learn and re-learn little by little every day.”

“In the future, do not hesitate to ask me if something’s on your mind.”

“Cool. Okay.” Sehun glanced at the sky; the watch on his wrist. Groaned. “Damn, it hasn’t been twenty minutes since we sat here.”

“What are we waiting for, exactly?” Jongin eyed the satchel bag. “You haven’t told me what your bag contains.”

“You’ll have your answers later. I promise I won’t keep things from you. Any camellias you can smell so far?”

Jongin took deep, full breaths, inhaling nothing but the crisp autumn air. “No, but I have been told the camellias bloom anywhere unprompted nowadays. Consider sending a prayer to Mama that we have long accomplished our goal before I smell it.”

Sehun resumed humming _Lover’s Cry_ and soaking his feet in the water. The song finished; Sehun would hum again. Repeat. The tranquility of their surroundings, the soft breeze, the gushing of water, and Sehun’s humming interspersed compelled Jongin to close his eyes. He lost count of the times _Lover’s Cry_ was repeated, though it mattered little as the dulcet notes relaxed his body. Calmed his mind.

Showed him the lake at the edge of the meadow, the night sky dotted with stars; the moon, round and bright. Sehun, hair long and the soft night breeze blowing through the loose strands, graceful fingers moving across gayageum in his lap. Jongin, dancing on the surface of the water, movements matching the rhythm of the song playing. _Lover’s Cry_. Not once did Jongin’s dancing falter; not once did eye contact break. After the last note faded into the night, Jongin approached Sehun; reached out to cup his cheek, an indescribable fondness in the action. They talked, they traded affectionate smiles, then Jongin leaned in for a kiss.

Jongin woke gasping; the dream swiftly, cruelly disappearing. A hollowness forgotten teemed to back life between his ribs. The sky had darkened considerably, and he was also on his back, but he calmed once Sehun entered his line of vision. Sehun’s eyes were closed, oblivious to his internal turmoil and staring. He wasn’t humming anymore. Jongin questioned how and why his head was pillowed on Sehun’s lap, but the thought of moving away or sitting up was unappealing. His eyes landed on Sehun’s lips, and his own tingled remembering what happened in the dream.

“You’re thinking too hard, I can almost hear your thoughts.”

Sehun was looking at Jongin, amusement in his eyes; his smile. “Slept well, Sleeping Beauty? Pretty amazing to see a demon sleep for the first time, if you ask me. I didn’t know that was possible.”

“And how, by Mama, did I end up on your lap?”

“You kept nodding off while sitting until your head landed on my shoulder. You looked like you were suffering, so out of the goodness of my heart, I let you lay your head on my lap.”

“_Suffering._” One eyebrow arched on its own.

Sehun gave a one-shouldered shrug. “You tell me. You were making this face”—he closed his eyes and exaggerated a grimace—”so I thought you were fighting off something in your dreams. Maybe the Red Force. I don’t know.”

Jongin sneaked a glance at Sehun’s lips. His own tingled again.

Sehun tilted his head in curious wonder. “You’re red in the face.”

“I am not.”

“You haven’t seen your face yet, but you’re so quick to deny. Why? What could possibly make a demon prince’s face red?”

“You are imagining things, young god.”

Sehun grinned; looked much too gleeful by the address. “Do you want me to guess? Or should I go straight for the kill?”

Jongin huffed out a cross between a scoff and a laugh. “You are confident you’ll get it right on the first try? Fine. I shall play along. What did you think I was dreaming about?”

“Easy. You dreamed of kissing me.”

A roar of laughter escaped from Jongin’s mouth before he could stop it or utter a denial to the claim. Sehun’s accuracy was amazing. It didn’t mean Jongin had to confirm.

“Not everyone dreams of kissing someone.”

“True, but you’re so obvious in the way you kept staring at my mouth since you woke up.” Sehun sported a mischievous but adorable grin. “Am I right? Was it a good kiss? It must be—your blush is really bad right now.”

Jongin had never felt more betrayed by the traitorous heat of his cheeks.

And then he saw it: the faded marks on Sehun’s neck. A reminder of the unforgivable act Jongin had done, guilt lancing through his chest. He heard Sehun talking, but he wasn’t paying close attention. Instead, he lightly brushed the tips of his fingers against the soft skin of Sehun’s throat where the marks were still visible.

Sehun went completely still, words dying down immediately. If Jongin moved his fingers a little higher, he would feel Sehun’s pulse; the life thrumming beneath the skin. Finding the vein vital for human survival came too easy for him—he aimed for this spot sometimes when offering hunts to the Tree of Discord. His nails ached, more out of reflex that tied in with the action than intent. A sense of satisfaction overcame him stroking Sehun’s neck, the hollow of his throat.

“It must’ve hurt. Back then, when I…” Jongin stumbled over his next words. Ugly truths were not as easily admitted as sweet lies, even as a demon, but were necessary to be said and heard for proper closure. “When I stopped you and almost snapped your neck, thinking you were doing harm to the Tree of Discord.”

Sehun looked confused then showed recognition. “No shit! Your grip hurt. I really thought I was done for. Why did you think I removed my bracelet? I was _that_ desperate to survive. I understand the motive behind your actions—I would’ve done something similar if I was in your place. I won’t lie, I’m angry about what you did to me, and I shouldn’t have to act civil around you, either, because who knows if you’ll do it again? Demons are not trustworthy, as my teachers told me in the first life, but… I want to give you a second chance.” He sounded resolute about this; reflected in his face. “As long as you’re not secretly plotting my demise during this quest, we’re cool.”

The corners of Jongin’s mouth rose. “Lord Kyungsoo would use that as an excuse to set loose his disdain for me.”

“Kyungsoo doesn’t _not_ like you, just clarifying.”

Jongin refrained himself from rolling his eyes. “He has a very funny way of showing it. _If_ you can call threatening to draw his sword and glaring at me every chance he could as such.”

“You’ll get along well if you give it a chance.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jongin said, and he was honest about this. He wasn’t keen on impressing a god who could not stand the sight of him; whose hand was always at the ready to draw his sword when they stood within proximity of each other. “It will happen when it happens, I suppose.”

Jongin’s fingers hadn’t withdrawn from where they stayed on the hollow of Sehun’s throat. Sehun didn’t look away or start another conversation when the last one ended, his gaze charged with various emotions: with understanding, with fascination, with an unexplained sadness mirroring the hollowness in his chest. In his current dream, in an image triggered by the enchanted bracelet, Jongin always found a way to touch Sehun’s face.

Taking a long, proper look at Sehun’s features, Jongin admitted it was a thing of wonder: nicely-arched eyebrows, deep and expressive eyes, the perfect slope of his nose, pink lips, and a sharp jaw line. Sehun’s cheek was smooth and soft, sparking a desire like no other to touch. Touch more.

“I see you don’t waste time. You like my face that much?”

Jongin’s hand had drifted to cup Sehun’s cheek in the time he’d been staring rather openly at his face. Mortification should’ve been motivation enough to rip his hand away, apologize for his lack of self-control, but Sehun’s intense stare pinned him in place.

“Your hand is warm.” Gentle fingers wound their way around Jongin’s wrist. Sehun grinned, eyes sparkling. “It feels nice.” The moment ended too fast when he gazed skyward, mouth forming an ‘O.’ “It’s almost time. I have to prepare.” He patted Jongin’s hand twice. “I’d love to hear you wax poetic about my beautiful face, but duty calls.” 

The sunset cast a combined orange and purple glow over the mountains. Sehun pulled out items from the satchel bag and set them at the edge of the pool. Jongin spied them as different pieces of folded garments. The sky turned completely dark not long after, stars winking into existence one after the other. Clouds parted for the rising moon, round and full and shining silvery-white.

The first shaft of moonlight touched the pool like a pale band of silver. The surface glowed a brilliant white, turning the transparent water opaque, sparkling brighter than the stars. Sehun made an awed noise, delighted by the transformation. Supplied an explanation when Jongin asked

“Kyungsoo told me of Biryong Falls’ forgotten legend. This is where the Almighty bathed before ascending to godhood. It’s true there are other waterfalls in and around Seoraksan, but Mama visited Almighty in a dream and gave instructions to bathe here because it’s a holy pool where water dragons are born. Dragons have been revered by some humans for the good luck and fortune they bring. They also possess purification powers, so the waters are thought to be sacred, too, in turn.”

“A purification ritual?”

“Supposedly. After bathing, I can’t touch anything that would sully me until I reach the temple. The only exception I can touch is the elixir when we find it. Nothing should come into contact with my skin, either. Something about retaining the purity my body absorbed from the holy waters. Kyungsoo was strict about those conditions, so I have to listen to him. Man, this ascension thing and its many rules…” Sehun shook his head. “If you’re thinking about touching my face again, sorry, you have to make do with staring until this is over.”

Jongin burst into a baffled laugh. “Who said anything about—”

The sentence hung incomplete as Sehun started stripping off his clothes apiece and walked to the edge of the pool. He dipped a foot in, the other, walked to the center of the pool in measured steps until only his head remained above the surface. Jongin, frozen in place and mind blank, was treated a generous view of Sehun’s naked form from behind during the walk. Naked bodies weren’t new to Jongin. His body count would take an eternity to total. He’d seen all sorts of bodies in various states of dress and undress, so Sehun’s nude back should do nothing to him. Jongin was more used to being admired, stared at, lusted over, even if he was seducing out of obligation.

“Are there enemies close by?” Sehun called out from where he stood. He submerged himself into the water and surfaced, pushing his wet hair back.

Jongin watched Sehun’s fingers card through damp strands. “None. I don’t smell camellias, either. That should be a good thing, considering how they used to thrive at night only.”

“That’s true,” Sehun agreed, retreating a few steps so the water reached his waist. Water droplets ran down broad shoulders; slid along collarbones and down his sternum. Jongin tracked one errant droplet gliding over his smooth stomach. “You won’t nag at me if I take my time bathing, will you? Need to be squeaky clean just in case.” He turned around before Jongin could form a reply; stared at Sehun’s back muscles, the flex of his arms when he turned sideways and scooped water in his hands.

Many had done too much to get Jongin’s attention and earn his favor. Sehun only had to undergo a purification ritual to capture Jongin’s full interest, blasphemous as it sounded for various reasons he could not bother to list. Always a first time for everything.

Sehun did good on his word bathing at leisure, checking in on the status of their surroundings on occasion. Jongin’s heightened senses aided him in his watch meanwhile. After an indeterminate amount of time, the glow of the waters receded just as Sehun swam to the edge of the pool and rose. Quickly drying and dressing himself, Sehun dressed into the folded garments comprised of a long white robe and a cloak over it in a matching color. On the back of the cloak were drawn patterns in blue. To the untrained eye, it looked like an insensible design. Jongin’s demon vision helped him recognize it as the alphabet used in the Golden Era pre-dating the Three Realms. If read randomly, the words didn’t make sense. With Golden Era knowledge, they were fragments of a spell; its purpose, unknown.

Sehun must’ve noticed his staring because he looked down on his robe; raised the sleeves. “Look, I know the cloak is pretty tacky, but I don’t get to choose what to wear for these rituals. Ascensions. Whatever. Don’t judge.”

Jongin summoned a scarlet flame for them each to light their path. Sehun led the way on their continued hike; informed him they needed to reach the summit of Ulsanbawi as part of the next step. Seoraksan was expectedly quiet tonight, broken by the sounds of rushing water from smaller lakes, the rustling of the wind in the trees. They passed by a temple, the absence of monks’ prayers disturbing. Perhaps they had gone down or stayed somewhere else in search of safer shelters if they had heard news of the latest events in the city proper.

“What are you to do at Ulsanbawi’s summit?”

“The temple will be found there. Kyungsoo and I studied the Old World Maps. Ulsanbawi was the closest match when we compared it to the modern map.” Sehun was beginning to sound short of breath talking and climbing the steep steps simultaneously.

“We should take a break. You might pass out, and I won’t be able to help you since contact is forbidden.”

“I’m just a bit out of shape. I haven’t hiked in so long, and in such great distances,” Sehun said. “But sure, if you insist. I could use it. We have”—he squinted into the distance—“about a hundred more of these damn steps to climb before we reach.”

They crossed one suspension bridge to take a break and resumed hiking once Sehun looked better. Trees increased in number the higher and further they climbed the winding stairs. Sehun wound the cloak tighter around his body from the gradual drop in temperature. Jongin hardly shivered from the cold but felt bad for Sehun; reminded him of the stark difference between human and demon builds.

The air by the left side of Jongin’s neck cut open with a whoosh. Quick reflexes helped him catch the arrow by its shaft. A repulsive, acrid scent wafting from the arrowhead. He snapped the arrow and melted the metal tip; growled low in his throat at the multiple presences spreading around them. They were lurking in the darkness; the gaps between the trees. Watching. Impatient. Infernal energy, a dead giveaway.

“What’s wrong?” Sehun must’ve sensed he wasn’t following anymore and returned, but remembered not to get close. He saw the broken arrow by Jongin’s feet. Terrifying realization dawned on his features, followed by concern. “Don’t tell me you’ve been—”

Jongin shook his head and surveyed their surroundings, trying to estimate how many demons he would need to take down. “I’d be a complete and utter fool to be poisoned a third time.” The massive amount of infernal energy didn’t deter him from searching for that elusive presence similar to the one he sensed on the night he was shot.

The trees shook. Grotesque creatures stepped away from the shadows and out in the open. As far as physical appearances went, these lesser demons weren’t easy on anyone’s eyes: mismatched horns on their heads, misshapen faces with exaggerated features of hooked noses and pinprick eyes, huge heads too heavy to be supported by their bodies, distended abdomens where a second face or mouth reared. Their eyes glowed, slavering jaws showcasing rows and rows of unevenly-sized fangs, strands of drool dripping down the corners. They hungered. They were closing in on them.

Jongin’s curiosity burned. No doubt these were lesser demons, but they moved together as if of one mind. As if something was commanding their every movement. Further confirmed by the odd, unlabeled energy subsumed with theirs—demon, in a way, but also not quite.

“Someone is acting as their puppet master,” Jongin told a restless Sehun, who stared aghast at the lesser demons.

“You really took the time to think about that when we’re about to be demon chow?”

“I cannot explain in detail right now, but if I can take down whoever’s controlling them, that would lessen our troubles greatly.” Jongin continued chasing after the elusive presence. Failed. “Make sure you do not touch any of them and vice versa.”

“Yeah, no, after all that hiking? I’m not going through another purification ritual.” Sehun’s eyes darted from one lesser demon to another. “There’s too many of them.”

“I’ll dispose of them for you.”

Sehun frowned. “I can only _not_ be touched. I’m not totally helpless.”

“I don’t doubt you can protect yourself,” Jongin said, and he meant this; conveyed it in a way he took Sehun seriously. “Destroy the demons that block your path; but if there’s an opening for an escape, take it and run. Conserving your powers might be helpful later on when we find the temple.”

The impatience must’ve won out, for the lesser demons took advantage of their distracted state and charged. Unleashing his demon form, Jongin mangled the first demon he came into contact with, second, third. The others opted to attack him together. Several whistles in the air. Jongin quickly grabbed one demon by the face and used its body as a shield from the rain of arrows aimed for him, ceasing its struggle and shrieks. The repugnant stench of demonbane and demon blood permeated the cold night air.

Teeth and claws were Jongin’s weapons to shred the lesser demons on his race up the stairs, leaving a trail of dismembered body parts and filthy black blood. Not far ahead were flashes of light; hisses of pain. Sehun was clearing their obstructed path using energy blasts in obliterating demons. One came at him from above, but Sehun blasted it to smithereens before a gnarled finger could touch him. Together they fended off the demons as they leapt two steps at a time, now, in their attempt at shaking them off. The lesser demons chased after them, sibilant hissing echoing through the night.

Another whoosh. Another arrow caught before it grazed Jongin’s temple. In that split second of stopping to catch the arrow, sharp nails pierced through the skin of his back. Jongin was regrettably a beat too late sensing the lesser demon that snuck up on him from below the stairs. Angry and pained, Jongin swiveled around and grabbed the demon by the head before more damage could be done. He embedded a claw on its face and savagely carved it down, sharp nails splitting the tough flesh of its body with satisfying ease. Jongin tossed the corpse at the other demons gaining on him to buy him time to escape. The wounds on his back stung and bled, but the skin was on its way to stitching itself together.

Jongin spotted Sehun up ahead. The fog was creeping thick, forming a solid veil around them. In the silence of the mountains, their footsteps resounded as they skipped two at a time. Puffs of frosty air escaped from Sehun’s mouth; Jongin, unaffected still by the continued drop in temperature. They were close to reaching the top. The lesser demons showed equal determination running after them. Jongin could hear their hissing from behind. To his right, the sound of beating wings growing close. Closer. A gigantic flying demon flew at a petrified Sehun with impossible speed, jaws open, claws outstretched.

“Watch out!”

The blue patterns at the back of Sehun’s cloak sparked and shot out white flames at the flying demon, plunging to its burnt demise down the mountain.

A second screech. A second flying demon. One by one they emerged from the fog like sinister shadows coming to life in a huge cacophony of shrill shrieks. The flying demons withstood no chance of survival against Jongin’s scarlet flames. After setting the last one on fire, Jongin hurried after Sehun, who was one flight of stairs ahead of him. He gained speed and caught up in seconds, almost stumbling on his own feet when the telltale scent of camellia reached his nose. Using demon vision, Jongin searched beyond the impenetrable fog for the source. Abject horror coursed through him at the rapid spreading red among the trees miles below.

Two of them sprung from the trees behind him undetected, forbidding him passage. Taut, crimson skin and perfumed with camellia. The Red Force. Jongin lunged at one to gouge out its eyes. The second demon disappeared from sight and reappeared behind Jongin in a millisecond, grabbing him by the tail and slamming him into the boulder. The resulting impact disoriented Jongin but was given no recovery time. A claw lifted Jongin by the back of the head and smashed his face in the dented boulder. The unexpected force had Jongin choking and inhaling dirt, pain exploding on his face. His forehead stung. Jongin could smell his own blood; felt it trickling down the side of his face.

Baekhyun’s words returned to him. The impending Eclipse was doing the Red Force great favors, their wild strength the best example.

An explosion of white. Dying screeches. The pressure at the back of his head disappeared. Jongin fell but reflexes kicked in, so he landed on one knee, instead. His vision swam; pain burst through his head. He heard Sehun call out his name. He couldn’t tell if he responded or not. Returned senses registered a stinging gash on his forehead. 

More lesser demons were coming, as did the Red Force. The scent of camellias was getting stronger, too.

“I can smell camellias,” Sehun said, voice soft, as if any louder would attract the demons regardless of their origin. Jongin’s vision returned to sharper focus; saw the worry creasing Sehun’s forehead, shining in his eyes. He wrung his hands together. Jongin sensed a suppressed intent to touch from his aura. “Are you alright? That was one mean blow. That demon must’ve been jealous of your face. I would, too, if I looked like a gargoyle.”

Jongin cracked a smile at the attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “I’ll heal. Let’s go.”

“It won’t take long now. We’re very close to the summit.”

Ulsanbawi’s breathtaking view of Seoraksan could’ve been better appreciated if not for the dense fog shrouding the majority of the land, the darkness of the night, and their life-or-death circumstance. On the summit they stood, mindful of their footing. Jongin scoured the landscape below as much and far as his demon vision allowed. Nowhere around the summit indicated a temple was built here, uneven formations not sustainable to support one. Jongin couldn’t fathom where the temple would be hidden here, as well, having teleported his way across the formations searching for hints or overlooked spaces.

“We’re here,” Sehun announced simply, sounding breathless from the running, and probably from mild disbelief they had arrived in one piece.

“_Here?_” Jongin exclaimed. “Where in the Three Realms would the temple be here?”

“Patience.” Sehun carefully made his way toward the widest lookout. He pushed back his cloak’s hood, the wind whipping at his hair. He turned to Jongin and said, “This might go without saying, but keep the demons at bay until I complete the ritual.”

“Another ritual?” Jongin asked, incredulous. “Here? _Now?_ Why do you gods love rituals so much?” he groused, though he obliged. He stood close to the top of the stairs, casting glances between Sehun and downward.

“I said patience,” Sehun told him, though without real heat. “Now do your job and I’ll do mine.”

Sehun closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, lips moving fast. The words sounded unintelligible until Jongin caught various syllables unique to summoning incantations.

Beneath Sehun materialized a seal of complicated but intricate meetings of lines, curves, celestial bodies, and identical trees moving in a steady, wheeling motion. Sehun chanted the incantation louder. An aura of pure white surrounded his form as divine energy gathered around him, crackling in the air. It took physical form as a bright beam of light that shot upward. The clouds dispersed. The beam expanded at the top, forming an outline and molding itself into indecipherable shapes. Jongin squinted for a better look; a better idea of what the light would become. An expansive building. Tall. Curved roofs.

Sehun stopped chanting. The light diffused. The clouds stayed parted.

Up in the sky, on a massive, floating rock, stood the remains of a temple shining like a golden beacon in this impossibly dark night. Glittering, transparent stairs connecting the lookout to the temple appeared before them.

The Temple of Two Moons, hidden no longer.

The Temple of Two Moons, a shadow of its former glory with its empty grounds and littered rubble; fissured slabs of stone lying strewn and pillars collapsed on top of each other. Though dilapidated, the temple retained its magnificence, seemingly alive in the life it radiated; roofs surprisingly intact after thousands and thousands of years. The smaller buildings beside and around the temple were not as fortunate in escaping dilapidation. On these grounds was where Mama used to walk; in the temple was where worshippers came to pay homage, pray to have their wishes fulfilled. 

The inside was expectedly cold and empty. Their footsteps echoed through hallways with arched ceilings, walking past abandoned ceremonial items and torn tapestries scattered on the floor. Jongin pushed open the doors of the biggest room they’d seen yet as per Sehun’s request. An altar was the first thing he saw. Lining the walls were old candle stands, some with melted wax that hadn’t been removed. Yellow, flower-shaped lanterns hung from the ceiling. Painted on the smooth, wooden floor were the Twin Trees adjacent of each other, lustrous and in full bloom.

Sehun darted straight for the altar where a tiny box stood flanked by golden candle stands. Carved on the lid was a miniature version of the illustration on the floor. “This is it,” he said in breathless wonder, hands hovering over the box, hesitating if he should touch; where. 

Jongin decided for him by laying a palm on the box, bracing for impact in case it resisted him. None. A moment of silent understanding passed between him and Sehun as they held their breath and Jongin lifted the lid with deliberate slowness.

Safely nestled inside was a tiny bottle of clear glass, yellow liquid the color of daises swirling inside. Sehun cradled the bottle between his hands, face alight with joy.

“It exists. This is the elixir.” Sehun let out a short laugh in rejoice. “I really can’t believe we’ve found it.”

“You should drink it now,” Jongin said, smiling. “The sooner you do, the faster we can solve the problem—”

The ceiling above them exploded and came crashing down. Dust filled the room, choked the air. The deafening crash of debris around them. They would’ve been buried underneath the collapsing wooden beams if not for Sehun conjuring a protective barrier around them, materials bouncing off it in their collision. In the aftermath of wooden splinters and settled dust, chunks of destroyed wood and detached roof tiles lay scattered on the floor in messy heaps. Whatever question Jongin wanted to ask disappeared when he noticed Sehun’s expression. Where he was looking.

The lightning-fast increase of numerous presences.

A mass amount of infernal energy battling against the divine energy in the temple.

Hundreds of eyes gleaming red belonging to lesser demons, ogling at them like juicy pieces of meat but not attacking. Unusual, in Jongin’s opinion—lesser demons were not known for their patience. Lesser demons were also the easiest to be lorded over by a more powerful being, further heightening his suspicion of something dictating their movements.

Standing in front of the throng of demons was Hyunbin, smugness openly displayed on his face. It was already shocking enough he escaped from Lord Kyungsoo’s enclosure. More shocking was Hyunbin looking nothing like what Jongin remembered in their previous duel. This Hyunbin before them looked more demon than human, as if his body couldn’t decide what features to settle on; what to do with its parts. His ears bore pointed ends, eyes red and slitted; nails long and black and sharp on human hands. Pointed canines peeked out under his mouth; showcased in their gleaming glory when his lips curled back to form a wicked smirk. The iridescence of his aura completely diminished, devoured by a purplish black color comparable to corrupt humans.

Another presence stepped forward, one Jongin didn’t notice until now. A cloaked figure, standing taller than Hyunbin, face concealed by the hood; a chained gem of flaxen gold hanging from their neck. Infernal energy radiated from this stranger, the undeniable scent of demon pouring off their skin. Mid-ranked at most, by Jongin’s quick assessment, but he could put neither name or face to their identity. Conspicuous waves of an invisible tether connected the cloaked figure to the lesser demons. The puppet master Jongin suspected, proven to exist.

Hyunbin gave a long, slow clap, eyes fixed on Sehun. “Bravo! Bravo, Sehun! For once, you did something useful on your own and brought me to the item that shall restore my godhood!”

Sehun tightened his grip around the bottle. “I’m not giving it to you.”

Hyunbin sneered; clucked his tongue in reproach. “Ah, but Sehun, you _will_ give it to me. It was meant for me. I am destined for greater things than to stay stuck as a pitiful, powerless human. We have been friends for a while—you know I’m an easy person to talk to. As long you hand over the bottle to me, there will be no need for violence and bloodshed.”

“Bullshit,” Sehun retorted, brows furrowing. “Easy person to talk to, my ass. You just want something from me. I’m not giving you the elixir. Far too dangerous things will happen to the realms if you even get a drop of this in your body.”

Hyunbin expelled a dramatic, insincere sigh. A sinister glint appeared in his eyes. “You leave me without a choice. I am so sad, Sehun. I didn’t know you to be so selfish, thinking of yourself only.”

“Wow, you must be describing yourself,” Sehun sassed. “The amount of crap you’re spouting just to get the elixir. You’re wasting both our time. It’s mine.

Hyunbin’s eyes turned cold, in spite of his flippant expression. “You want to make things hard? Let’s have it your way. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He slightly turned his head to the cloaked figure. “Haneul.”

The cloaked figure—Haneul—raised their hand. The lesser demons let out hisses of impatience but held crouching stances, salivating at the prospect of fresh meat. Through the demolished roof, the night sky was now visible, blasts of cold air blowing inside—and bringing with it the heady scent of camellias.

Jongin and Sehun traded stunned glances.

“Just a reminder, my dear Sehun. This temple is connected to Seoraksan. Sorta. What can you find in Seoraksan aside from water and mountains? Repeat after me: _trees_.” Hyunbin made a show of inhaling the camellia-infused air. “Do you smell that? Smells a lot like cheap perfume, but if you’re smart, it’s no huge secret what this scent will bring. We encountered those demons but had no time to entertain them. However, we might or might not have lured them here on purpose so they can entertain themselves with you.”

“You’re terrible,” Sehun ground out each word, eyes a stormy sea of rage. He clenched his fists. “You were terrible in the past. Looks like you’ve never changed. Never will.”

“Do I look like I care? At least I’m coming clean with my darkest secrets. Unlike you, who tries so hard to protect your darling demon prince.” Hyunbin tipped his chin in Jongin’s direction.

Jongin’s interest piqued, though he didn’t lash out; refused to show any reaction to his words. It could be a deceitful ploy to rile him up on purpose. “What is he talking about?” he asked Sehun, instead.

Sehun didn’t deign him with a response. Didn’t even look at him. His jaw tightened, and he was glowering. Jongin didn’t know it was possible to see Sehun glower, only having witnessed more lighthearted expressions, and the rare, passionate ones like at Biryong Falls.

“You are stalling, my lord,” Haneul spoke up for the first time, a masculine voice coming out from the cloak. His hand remained raised. “Get the elixir before the Red Force arrive. They are swift in infecting the trees surrounding the mountains.”

Hyunbin didn’t look at Haneul but shrugged. “I can’t even have my fun now, huh?” He looked at Sehun once more, this time with a challenge in his stare. “Let’s see who’s worthier of that elixir between us.”

“If you want a fight, I can do that,” Sehun said, taking a step forward.

Jongin almost grabbed his shoulder but remembered last minute the caveat about the ritual. Instead, he blocked Sehun’s way. “Do not do anything reckless. This isn’t the time to show off.”

Sehun’s eyebrows furrowed. "We had a similar talk last time. Don’t you dare think I’m helpless against him."

“I insinuate no such thing. You must remember nothing can—”

“Attack.”

Haneul’s single command drowned out the rest of Jongin’s words, hand now lowered. A flurry of lesser demons attacked. Jongin shouted a warning to Sehun before smashing the face of the first one barreling toward him with a fist; slashed and tore his way through the oncoming cretins. He didn’t want to expend his strength and powers; Hyunbin could be planning something else as the lesser demons distracted them. Bigger. The Red Force joining in would worsen the odds against them.

The scent of camellias was creeping close, growing stronger. Jongin ignored the smell; checked on Sehun, who was holding up exceptionally well hurtling energy blasts at demons that dared come close. The elixir was secure in his hand, knuckles paled from the tightness of his grip.

With Jongin and Sehun’s combined efforts, mutilated bodies and severed heads joined the roof debris on the floor, black blood splattering across the walls. Hacking the last one with nary a flinch, Jongin threw the corpse aside; faced Hyunbin and Haneul, now left without reinforcements at their disposal. Hyunbin’s face was a mask of eerie calm, even as Jongin took one menacing step forward at a time toward him.

“I must say that I might have wanted to torture you a bit to get you talking, but neither do I wish to be in your company any longer, nor can I stand the sight of you.” Scarlet flames burst to life in Jongin’s palm as he edged closer.

Hyunbin’s expression turned into a bored smirk. “Prince Jongin, if there is anyone you shouldn’t stand the sight of, it would be that pretty god lover of yours over there. I don’t know about you, but I _hate_ being lied to. And I would find it utterly disdainful if I found out the one I trust and treasure the most is keeping a secret from me.”

“You bastard, we talked about this!” Sehun shouted, a clipped edge to his voice.

Jongin stopped in his tracks. The flames itched for release; to burn flesh. A faint tugging at the edge of his mind, bothersome in a way he couldn’t fathom. Surely he wasn’t reacting to Hyunbin’s taunting, intentional or otherwise?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jongin told Hyunbin, “and I’m not falling for it.”

“Tsk, tsk. Such stubbornness. Why don’t I show you, instead?”

“Jongin, step back!” Sehun shouted, albeit a second too late.

Hyunbin snapped his fingers. The earth cracked open around Jongin. Chains shot out and wound around Jongin’s legs and arms; shackles fastened around his ankles and wrists, his neck. In the background, Haneul chanted an incantation, words indistinguishable. Jongin tugged at the chains, tried breaking them to extricate himself. The chains did not snap, stayed stubbornly fused together. The shackles around his wrists tightened. A growl tore from his throat unbidden at the sudden emergence of spikes inside the shackles piercing his wrist. Ignoring the pain, Jongin continued his pursuit of freedom; triggered the spikes on his ankles, embedding into his skin like a tiny demon mouth. Jongin’s attempts were proving futile in the long seconds he struggled: the chains wound tighter around his limbs, the spiked shackles biting further into his flesh and drew blood.

“Go on, Prince Jongin! Struggle! Free yourself! What will happen first: your death or your freedom?” Hyunbin sounded thrilled, a crazed expression over his face indicating his enjoyment. “Those magical chains cannot be broken unless you kill me or Haneul. Something you cannot do at the moment. Pitiful. What can you say, Sehun? Are you impressed? You should be—Prince Jongin will die struggling to be free. All for you._ Because _of you.”

“Stop it!” Sehun ordered, a tinge of desperation in his tone.

More struggling. More pain slicing down his spine, along every nerve. More blood, red smattering the painting of the Twin Trees. Jongin fell to a kneel after half the shackle around his neck grew spikes and lodged into tissue and muscle—away from the vital vein, unsure if Hyunbin planned it or not for the sake of prolonging his torture. He managed a look Sehun’s way; met his horrified stare, face ashen and worried.

“I can handle this,” Jongin told him, breathing in shallow gasps. “Do not give him the elixir no matter what.”

Sehun tore his gaze away to look at the elixir in his hands. Although wounded and severe pain tore through his body, Jongin caught the cloud of doubt passing over Sehun’s features. He didn’t need to read his aura to figure out what he must be thinking at this moment.

“I will survive this,” Jongin told Sehun, louder in volume, firmer in his words. “Don’t worry about me. No matter what happens, don’t give him the elixir.”

“I don’t know, Sehun, can your conscience really take becoming an instrument to your demon prince’s suffering and death? Or will you be a good boy and give it to me to finally put an end to this mess?” Hyunbin asked. “What will it be? Do you need more convincing? I know just the thing.”

Hyunbin raised his arm, palm up. A circle ignited to life around Sehun, flames shooting up and, as if possessing a life of its own, enclosed on his space. A stream of fire lashed out. Sehun countered the attack by shielding himself. Another from behind. Sehun erected a protective barrier to deflect the attack. Continuous lashes of fire with the strength and weight of fists beating down on it, trying to reach for their target within.

“Fighting those flames will drain you of your divine energy, but you’re free to hop around like a toad until they eventually get you,” Hyunbin warned in a sing-song voice.

“Take those flames back!” Jongin demanded, clawing at the shackle around his neck; the chains around his arms. Futile. “Take them back, or else—”

“Or else _what_, Prince Jongin?” Hyunbin snapped. “You are practically useless right now. Don’t make me laugh. Acting this protective over Sehun when he’s been keeping something from you—do you want to know what that is? I can tell you.”

“Don’t you dare!” Sehun yelled, anger apparent on his face.

“I’m not at the height of my powers, which is a pity; but I have enough to do what is expected.” Hyunbin crowded into Jongin’s space as he said this, sneering at him.

Jongin didn’t cower away from him, snarling as he prepared himself for whatever trick Hyunbin had up his sleeve.

The snarl died when Hyunbin grabbed hold of his head, fingers digging painfully into his skull. Jongin tried shaking off his tight hold. The flow of magical current from Hyunbin’s fingers traveled to every nerve ending in his body, stripping his energy and draining him of fight. His mind screamed to fight back. Hs arms stayed limp and unmoving by his sides.

An abrupt numbness overtook Jongin, the throbbing pain from the wounded areas of his body diminishing. He couldn’t smell the camellias or his blood. He couldn’t hear Sehun’s distressed calls of his name. Hyunbin, Haneul, the temple around them, the sky above were swallowed by a boundless darkness.

And then his nerves jumpstarted from an intense, blistering pain coming from the back of his head. Jongin couldn’t scream, couldn’t soothe the ache. The afflicted area pounded with an urgency he’d never experienced in the past, refusing smothering any longer. Jongin grappled with the loosening restraints, but Hyunbin sought to give him anguish by suppressing his attempts. His head felt like it was sliced open for an insistent force to probe the crevices of his mind as it pleased, sans permission.

Hyunbin must’ve won, for the pain came and waned, Jongin’s senses returning. The darkness dissolved to the familiar scenery of the meadow he’d dreamt of more than once, large and filling the air with an array of faint, pleasant scents. A cloudless sky, endlessly blue. The sun hanging high, the ticklish grass beneath his bare feet. A tranquility blanketing the surroundings, unnerving in its pronouncement. The race of his pulse beating like a nonstop drum, the yawning chasm of despair expanding in his chest.

An unmistakable wetness on his claws. Blood dripping fresh and thick down his fingers, the sharp ends of his nails, the sensation dizzying and nauseating all at once. A sweet, metallic pungence like no other.

Jongin raised his claws, the redness of blood coating them. A grim vision. A disturbing stickiness touching the tips of his toes. The same red blood rapidly flowing across the grass, some of it following the path of the numerous cracks along the surface of the earth. He stared and stood frozen in place; traced back to its source.

His mouth fell open but no sound came out, inexplicably distressed; entire body turning cold. His mind screamed several times to look away. He couldn’t.

For before him was no other than Sehun lying on the ground, looking to be in peaceful sleep if not for the gaping hole on his chest and the blood pooling beneath his unmoving body. Sehun’s head was tilted to the side, red trickling down the corner of his mouth. His face looked peaceful. Too peaceful. No sign of struggle. No rise and fall of his chest. No pulse on his neck or wrist; no beat from his heart.

Coldness took Jongin in its embrace as he gaped at Sehun’s lifeless body. He dared another look at his bloodied claws. He’d seen this dream a thousand times, often wondering if it carried a secret message by its repeated visits. If a story existed he needed to remember. He wanted a sign, a hint, the truth, yet did not foresee the tragedy awaiting him. The gravity of what he had been begging for unbearable in its weight.

Jongin fell to his knees once he reached Sehun’s side. Jongin shook Sehun’s shoulder. Lightly, at first. Shook both shoulders. Sehun didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes no matter how hard Jongin shook him. No matter what Jongin said. Hysterical screaming. Hysterical crying. Demons never shed tears or experienced despair. Both tasted salty and bitter on his tongue.

Sehun. Sehun, lifeless. Sehun, unmoving. Sehun, who would never smile at him again. Blood. So much blood flowing out of Sehun’s chest. His blood on Jongin’s claws. Warm, thick, revolting. Jongin shook his head, yanked at his hair. Howled in despair. Tears blinded his vision, running hot down his cheeks. Hotter than the cooling blood. Sehun’s cooling blood. On his claws. Jongin’s bloodstained claws. Stained with Sehun’s blood. Sehun, peaceful but dead. He couldn’t be dead. Sehun _couldn’t_ be dead. Jongin shook him again, more tears dripping. Maybe a prank. That’s right. Sehun was a prankster. The blood could be someone else’s. Could be. Couldn’t be his. Couldn’t be Sehun’s blood. Sehun could’ve taken the prank too far to fool him. Could be. Could be. Could be.

A memory forgotten. How could he have forgotten? Why did he forget? How could he forget Sehun’s blood on his hands; Sehun’s death _by_ his hands?

Everything flashed a blinding white. Jongin was forced to squint his eyes until the brightness died down. The subsequent sensory assault proved overwhelming, knocking the breath out of his lungs as the pain returned to his wounded wrists and ankles. The next time he opened his eyes, Jongin was back at the temple, chained and shackled but had sunken to the floor, staring at the starlit sky in a daze. The surroundings were stock still except for the pulses and presences both familiar and unwelcome.

“Jongin?”

The soft, hesitant call of his name further grounded Jongin to reality, but hearing Sehun’s voice right now was nothing but painful.

“Jongin, talk to me. You’re okay, right?”

Sehun continued asking questions, but Jongin remained unresponsive. Jongin heard him loud and clear, but his mouth wouldn’t open.

“Oh, my. Did I break you, demon prince?” Hyunbin remarked, callous but amused. He grabbed a fistful of Jongin’s hair and forced his head toward his direction. “Tell us, Prince Jongin. How was it going down memory lane? Do tell us what you saw.” His words were laced with wicked glee.

Jongin met Hyunbin’s challenging stare, choice expletives running rampant through his mind though none left his lips.

“Not talking? That’s fine. I was expecting more fight from you, but it seems even the toughest demons turn useless in the face of such trivial emotions.” Hyunbin relinquished his hold on Jongin and turned to Sehun. “Now, Sehun, let me ask you again. Will you give me the elixir, or should I let Prince Jongin relive that memory for eternity until he grows mad? I don’t have all night, so choose wisely. Remember: your stubbornness will cost him. I don’t think his brother will take it lightly if you return Prince Jongin in such miserable shape after everything he’s done to protect him.”

Jongin tilted his head so he can take a better look at Sehun, who’d built up a sweat from holding up the barrier as the flames continued in their lashing. Was that pity in Sehun’s eyes? He couldn’t tell. He could only be grateful the present Sehun had his eyes open and not screwed shut in eternal slumber.

A thick, stifling silence descended on them. A furrow made its way between Sehun’s brows. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Determination flashed across his face when he gave his response.

“I’ll give you the elixir.”

The words miraculously thawed Jongin from his limbo, alert more than even since his return. 

“No! Don’t give it to him! This is exactly what he wants—for you to cave in!”

“How nice of you to come back and join us at present,” Hyunbin commented.

Jongin ignored the sly jab; glared at Hyunbin. “You’re not getting that elixir.”

“Yes, he is!” Sehun raising his voice was as surprising as his current decision. “I will give him the elixir if it means saving you.”

“You are out of your mind!” Jongin shouted, anger strangely returning the strength to his weakened body; his battered mental state. “If you give him the elixir, we are all doomed! You will put all the realms in grave danger! You’re not thinking clearly—don’t let your emotions influence your decisions!”

“My mind has never been clearer than this moment,” Sehun said, voice softer now, though his tone carried a steely conviction that took Jongin aback. In admiration or horror, that remained to be seen. “Just trust me on this, okay?”

“You’re giving Hyunbin the key to destruction, how in the Three Realms am I supposed to trust you?”

Sehun addressed Hyunbin instead of answering the question. “I will only give you the elixir if you let Jongin go and take back the flames.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be demanding things.”

“Are you doing it or not?” Sehun asked, irritated. “I might not drink this elixir, but I can damn well break the bottle and we’ll both stay as humans forever. I’ve given my conditions. I’m not taking them back. You either become a god, or we both die miserably human. Well?”

For the first time since this entire fiasco started, Hyunbin looked conflicted. The emotion didn’t last long on his face, back to its impassive facade. He waved his hand. The flames surrounding Sehun disappeared at once, the circle soon fading.

“The elixir,” Hyunbin said.

“Not until Jongin is free,” Sehun replied.

“And what is the guarantee that you will keep your end of the bargain?”

“That should be my line, ex-best friend,” Sehun said coolly, lifting one brow at Hyunbin. “I’ve never gone back on my word. You know this well. My track record is clean. I wish I could say the same for you, but… Anyway, are you releasing Jongin or not?”

“Do not order me around,” Hyunbin barked, annoyed. Wearing a severe frown, he snapped his fingers. The chains binding Jongin’s limbs retreated to the ground, and the shackles fell away. The wounds closed at once, Jongin feeling lighter in his freedom.

Relieved, stunned, and appalled, Jongin watched Sehun slightly crouch, careful to not let his knees hit the floor, and gently rolled the bottle toward Hyunbin. It stopped a short distance away from his foot, yellow liquid catching the light from the stars.

Smirking in sickening triumph, Hyunbin bent down to pick up the bottle.

A force field crackled to life around the bottle the moment Hyunbin’s hand came into contact. A tense silence reigned over the place. The strong scent of camellias was almost dizzying to Jongin, but nausea was the last of his concerns as confusion sank in. What was happening?

Hyunbin tried to get his hands on the bottle again. The force field refused his touch. His third try yielded the same result. So did the fourth, fifth, sixth. Enraged, he yelled at Sehun, “What the fuck did you do to the bottle? Why can’t I touch it?”

“Why don’t you ask yourself that? I thought you were smart?” Sehun mocked, evidently enjoying Hyunbin’s failure by the happiness in his aura. “Why do you think I underwent a purification ritual? An impure body and soul can’t touch an object created with purity.” This time, Sehun didn’t bother hiding his delight. A white aura surrounded his form, eyes adapting a vindictive look. “Sucks to be you, huh? A treasure literally within an arm’s reach, but your corrupt soul can’t let you have it.”

Before Jongin could blink, Sehun launched an energy blast Hyunbin’s way. Jongin sprung out of its path, then pounced on a shell-shocked Hyunbin with a growl. They both rolled around the ground, trying to tackle the other. Jongin won and mauled Hyunbin with savage strength. Hyunbin’s screams of pain were satisfying to his ears. For once, the acquired taste of agony was not unpalatable.

The scent of camellias grew more potent in its spreading, impossible to smell anything else, now. Hundreds of menacing presences, growing in number. The batting of wings from a distance, the unified marching of feet toward their whereabouts. The Red Force was drawing near.

Hyunbin struck him on the side of his face. The surprising strength knocked Jongin off him and away, and he lay crumpled and dizzy on the ground. Hyunbin shot to his feet, attempting to deal Jongin another blow. To Jongin’s surprise, Haneul grabbed Hyunbin’s arm to stop him. Hyunbin struggled against Haneul’s grip in vain.

“My lord, the Red Force is close. If we stay a second longer, we will be caught in the crossfire.” Hyunbin opened his mouth to probably complain, but Haneul didn’t allow him. “I am not taking sides, but the awakened god is right. You are not eligible to touch the elixir. There are other ways to achieve godhood. I will help you find them.”

“Shut up!” Hyunbin finally freed his arm, lips curling back in a snarl. He pointed a threatening finger at Sehun’s. “We’re not finished. If you think you’ve won now, you’ve got many more things coming at you.”

A whirlwind of infernal energy enveloped Hyunbin and Haneul. Jongin sprung to his feet in an attempt to stop them, but his knees buckled, remembering his strength hadn’t fully returned yet. The whirlwind dispersed; Hyunbin and Haneul, nowhere to be found.

“Hurry,” Jongin urged Sehun, pointing at the forgotten bottle. He shook his head, blinked several times for his vision to sharpen back to its usual clarity.

Sehun carefully lifted the bottle off the ground. Victory had never tasted so sweet watching Sehun easily touch the bottle without the force field working against his touch. Sehun opened the bottle and drank the contents to the last drop.

Seconds sailed by like an eternity. Jongin refused to blink in case he might miss something important. Sehun blinked several times, touching his throat, his chest where his heart was, brows drawing together in apparent confusion.

“I don’t feel any different.” Sehun frowned; then, worry clouded his face as he looked at Jongin. “What if this isn’t the elixir?”

“I do not think the Old World Maps would lie to you and lead you to a farce of a temple, unless there is a secret test you must undergo before you can become a god again.”

Sehun’s answer never left his mouth, for the bottle slipped from his grasp as hands flew to his throat, choking on air. Concerned but held back by the ritual conditions, Jongin could only watch Sehun’s form tremble in what seemed like pain as he doubled over, gasping for air.

A snarl; a hiss. Marching drawing close; closer. 

Like a nightmare come to life, innumerable glowing red eyes began swarmed the temple entrance. Some Red Force demons hovered above in suspended flight, hollow, hungry eyes set on them. The twitch of their fingers told of a desire to carve nails into flesh; jaws snapping and impatient to tear and chew. Jongin’s head ached less, now; vision, good as new. He braced for intense combat, taking on a protective stance in front of Sehun.

The Red Force wasted no time attacking. Jongin shredded and hacked each one that tried to get too close. He was at a rather big disadvantage since he couldn’t stray far from Sehun and also needed to protect himself. He dealt fatal blows on demons that dared reach for him or Sehun; acquiring new wounds on his arms and chest, his back. Winged demons swooped in from above. Jongin hurled fireballs at them, ash raining down upon disintegration. Two attacked from the front; a clean, merciless swipe to their necks, bodies falling first followed by the heads. Two launched a surprise attack and sank their talons into Jongin’s arms each, his pained roar ringing in the air.

A crawling demon bypassed Jongin in quick, zigzag motions and sprung on an unsuspecting Sehun. Jongin strained to free himself. The talons dug deeper, paralyzing him, panic setting in as he could do nothing but yell Sehun’s name.

Sehun’s hunched form glowed gold. The hungry demon collided with the light and combusted. Sehun slowly stood to his full height, the wind tossing his hair and cloak; eyes unseeing, as if in a trance, and gleamed gold. The other demons, enchanted but hungry, tried to get close. All of them met the same fate as the first demon.

A sudden increase in divine energy: overwhelming, encasing the entire temple. The seal with celestial bodies and the Twin Trees emerged from the ground Sehun stood on as he summoned an orb of light between his hands. It grew larger in size and shot up to the vast sky, clouds swirling round and round as it formed a swelling pillar pulsing with life that ran up and down its length. The winged demons gravitated toward it; perished in seconds. The pillar of light expanded in size. The Red Force, sensing their demise, retreated to the darkness, avoiding the touch of the light. Unsuccessful.

The light annihilated the escaping demons; purified Seoraksan’s infected trees, reddened foliage transforming back to their warm autumn hues. Camellia flowers shriveled and withered; aborted births of the Red Force and left no survivors.

The light receded and ultimately vanished. Gone was the Red Force, nary a single presence close by and far away. Sehun didn’t move from his spot, his golden aura long leaving his form, eyes back to their usual color. Almost immediately, Sehun’s knees gave. Almost immediately, Jongin caught him by the arm and helped steadied him, allowing Sehun to lean into his frame.

“Oh, my hero.” Sehun never ceased to amaze Jongin for his ability to make light of crucial situations. Sehun’s energy was fluctuating erratically; pulse in a similar condition. “That would’ve been bad for my knees if you didn’t catch me.”

Jongin tensed at the sudden realization. “Wait, I don’t think I’m supposed to touch you yet—”

“It’s fine,” Sehun interrupted. “That stipulation is only valid before I drink the elixir. You can touch me all you want now since I’ve drank it. I know you’ve been dying to.”

Jongin studied Sehun’s face; pushed back a stray fringe of hair from his damp forehead. “You look ill.”

“Nauseous, actually. But I’ll manage. I think. I take back what I said about not feeling any different. There’s too much energy surging inside me. My body suddenly doesn’t know what to do with it.” Sehun laid a palm flat on his chest, looking down at it in wonder. “I can’t believe I have this much power to begin with. I wonder what will happen if I remove the bracelet.”

“Let’s not get into more trouble than we can handle.” Jongin scanned their surroundings, alarmed the temple pillars were beginning to fade from view. “For now, we should get out of here.”

Sehun noticed the temple’s slow erasure of its own existence, as well. “True. Gonna teleport us out of here? I don’t think those stairs are a smart option right now. I’ve had it with so much hiking in one day.”

Jongin chuckled despite himself; pulled Sehun closer by securing an arm around his shoulders.

In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

One new glyph glowed, catching Jongdae’s immediate attention from tuning his gayageum.

Seven out of nine. Discussion broke among the muses once they noticed him staring at the ceiling. Some were pointing discreet fingers at the newly-lit glyph, worry in their eyes, their voices.

Jongdae could not blame them for their unrest. The Elysian Clock was never wrong, the gods having relied on its accurate predictions since Mama’s invention and bequeathing of it to their realm. A tool to forewarn them of the greatest catastrophe yet to happen.

Jongdae did not rest well that night, mind plagued by the uncertainty of the next glyph lighting up.

The children playing outside of his estate distracted him from the dismal thoughts when he left for the temple the next morning. They played in the snow without a care for glowing glyphs and dying trees; innocent smiles and joyful laughter a welcome, pleasant reprieve from dreadful realities. Some made ice forts and hurled snowballs at their enemies. Others were content making snow figures and decorated its faces using twigs and pebbles. Jongdae walked past a little boy drawing on the snow using a stick the length of his tiny arm. The curved edges and squiggly lines did not look anything remotely familiar, at first. Peering closer, Jongdae waited for the little boy to finish.

A sun and a moon, side by side. Below, a tree; beside it, a stick figure with long hair.

“Who is that?” Jongdae asked, gentle and soft, as he crouched next to the little boy.

The little boy startled, widened eyes returning to their original size. Tiny teeth showed when he grinned. “This figure? He’s the Tree of Life Guardian! My sister read me a bedtime story about him last night. The story says the Guardian protects the Tree of Life, and the Holy Realm, too.”

“That’s right,” Jongdae said; asked for the little boy’s name. “Daeul, may I ask why you drew the moon and sun together?”

“Oh, you noticed!” Daeul gasped in surprise. Looked shy, then sad. “Are you going to make fun of me for drawing the sun and moon in the same sky? My playmates do. They’re all mean.” He pouted as he complained.

Jongdae thought him adorable; let out a soft chuckle. “I won’t make fun of you, I promise. I don’t know why your playmates would.”

“They keep telling me the sun and moon”—Daeul pointed at them respectively with his stick—“can’t appear in the sky at the same time. They said it’s ridiculous. They said the Almighty can make it happen, but I have to pray for three hundred sixty five days before my wish will be granted.” He turned to look at Jongdae and asked, “Why can’t it happen, Lord Jongdae? Is it not possible? In the story Soeul read to me, the sun and moon appeared in the sky at the same time and made an Eclipse!”

“Yes, what the story says is true,” Jongdae confirmed. “The Eclipse can happen, whether or not the Almighty wills it.”

Daeul rose to his feet and did a little victory dance, cheering, “I knew it! I knew it!” After calming down, he asked, sounding more excited than before, “Will I see an Eclipse happen soon?”

“The Eclipse isn’t something you should be celebrating,” a little girl’s voice chimed in. She stood taller than Daeul, and bore a striking resemblance with each other. Jongdae guessed her to be the sister Daeul mentioned. “The Eclipse isn’t a good thing.”

“But _why_?” Daeul’s last word came off as a whine. “Why is the Eclipse not a good thing, Soeul?”

“Bad things happen during the Eclipse,” Soeul explained, patience in her voice. “Bad creatures escape from the Demon Realm and create trouble in the Human Realm. The bad creatures do bad things to the humans. The humans cannot protect themselves from the bad creatures. So, the Eclipse cannot happen.”

Daeul’s eyes rounded in fascination. “Is that right, Lord Jongdae?”

Lord Jongdae nodded in confirmation. The cleansed version of the truth behind the Eclipse was better for young ears. He could not bear to terrorize their dreams with hideous images.

“Like the falling snowflakes dancing down from the sky on days you don’t expect, none of the gods know when the Eclipse will happen. None of the gods--not even Almighty—can stop the Eclipse from happening, too.” Jongdae borrowed Daeul’s stick and drew the Elysian Clock to his best ability. Art was never his forte; bitterly reminded of it as he stared at his poor excuse of a drawing. “This is why Mama gave us the Elysian Clock—so the gods and citizens of the Holy Realm can be warned early about the Eclipse and prepare for it.”

Daeul made a sound of understanding. Soeul hummed in agreement.

The short silence lapsed with Daeul’s next question. “Will the Guardian protect us if the Eclipse happens? He protects the tree. He will protect us, too, right?”

To himself, Jongdae genuinely wished it would never have to come to that. To Daeul, he showed a smile and said, “Yes. The Guardian will do his best to protect us and the Tree of Life during an Eclipse.”

“That’s great!” Daeul clapped—awed, gleeful. “When will the Guardian come back to protect us and the tree, Lord Jongdae? Will he come back today or tomorrow? Because I can see the sun and moon coming out together in the sky right now.”


End file.
